All Other Destinations
by Sindeniirelle
Summary: From Eroica with LoveDoctor Who crossover. DorianKlaus, 9thDoctorRose. NATO orders the major to investigate a 'time travelling alien.' Chaos ensues.
1. Episode 01: Prologue to Tomorrow

**All Other Destinations**

_From Eroica with Love/Doctor Who _cross-over

By Sindeniirelle

PG-13

Dorian/Klaus, Ninth Doctor/Rose

This story features the Ninth Doctor and companion Rose Tyler, as well as a new K-9 unit. In the _Doctor Who _canon, it takes place in the new series after the episode "Father's Day" but before "The Empty Child." Spoilers for the first season of the 2005 _Doctor Who _series.

_From Eroica with Love _is property of Aoike Yasuko, Princess Comics, and DC Comics. _Doctor Who _is property of the BBC and possibly others. No profit was made from this story.

**Episode 01: Prologue to Tomorrow **

"Alright then, Doctor? Where are we now?" Rose asked, looking up from the TARDIS'control panel as the slight shivering of the walls and floor came to a stop.

He was busy poking at the various collections of machines that somehow, all piled together, formed the control panel to their time-and-space travelling mechanism. She still couldn't really bring herself to call it a space ship. Afterall, from the outside it only looked like a blue police box.

"Doctor?" she called again, brushing a long strand of silky blonde hair back from her face. "Hello, Doctor? It's me, Rose, you're only friend in the universe, remember?"

He looked up at her, blinked for a moment, and then broke into one of his cheery smiles. "Oh, sorry about that, Rose. I've just been a little…"

"Distracted?" she gave him a questioning glance. "I noticed. Mind telling me why? I mean, before we run outside and find ourselves tangled up with all sorts of murderous aliens and exploding planets and whatnot."

"Ah…no?" he asked lightly, giving her a rather sheepish, apologetic grin.

"What, so you can't trust me now?" she asked incredulously, placing her hands on herhips. "After I saved your life?"

"You save _my_ life? Oh, is that how it went?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, remember the walking mannequins that nearly destroyed the Earth?"

"Oh. Well. I saved you from being burnt to a crisp," he replied.

"And took your time about it, too!"

"So we're even."

"But I bought you chips," she pointed out.

"You're right. I suppose I _do _have to trust you, then," he said it with an odd amount of sincerity, as though buying the chips really was equal to saving her life.

"Well, you trusted me enough to take me along, helping to save the universe and all that."

He sighed. "I have a bad feeling…its going to be dangerous, this time."

"You keep saying that, and I'm still here," she pointed out. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"I felt a…a ripple in space and time. You didn't feel it, did you? It felt like…something caused by one of my people."

"One of…another Time Lord? But wouldn't that be a good thing, then? You wouldn't be the last of your people anymore?" she asked.

"I don't know…depends," he shrugged.

"Depends on what?"

"On whether he's friendly or not," the Doctor answered, with his familiar grin. "And sanity is always a nice touch, too. Ah well, let's go have a look, shall we?" he clasped his hands together in excitement. "We should be on Earth sometime during the Cold War…and just in time to rescue some friends of ours."

"Friends of _ours_," Rose repeated. "But_ I_ haven't even met them yet."

"No, neither have I. That comes later." He looked at her for a moment, and she looked at him. "…It's a…time…thing," he explained vaguely.

Rose merely sighed, hiding a smile as she shook her head and followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS and into whatever new adventures he had waiting for them, whenever, wherever…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Louvre.

A medieval fortress, the palace of the kings of France, and a museum for two centuries. It was beautiful. And_ big_. Covering nearly forty hectares of land in the heart of Paris, 60 000 square miles of exhibition rooms, and more than six _thousand _European paintings.

Good thing art-thief extraordinaire Eroica knew his way around.

Infact, he felt like a kid in a candy store.

_Hm. I wonder if the museum curators have realized that Vermeer is a fake yet? _He thought, slipping past a large oil painting with a brilliant smile playing childishly across his lips. _I guess not. And the original is _SO_ much brighter._

The dashing young art thief smiled at the thought, and tossed a shimmering wave of golden curls back over his shoulder. He had spent the last month with his band of thieves sneaking around in the shadows of some important NATO mission or another, just waiting to lend a helping hand if needed to a certain handsome German Major…(or just the opposite, which was, in fact, much more fun!) of course his beloved Major had been more difficult than_ ever_.

The golden-haired thief had no doubt that_ eventually_, when all of his efforts paid off, the results would be well worth the angry snarls of 'pervert!' 'degenerate!' and 'idiot!' he had come to put up with from the German. In the mean time, however, he felt he deserved a painting.

Leonardo Da Vinci's _Saint Jean-Baptist, _to be exact. Eroica may have been an atheist, but it was still a _lovely_ painting. Just screaming to be rescued by the Earl of Gloria.

He wanted that painting.

He was going to _get _that painting.

It was just that simple. After all, he deserved to own all things beautiful. Even more so since he had started lending a helping hand to NATO in their admirable job of defending the free world. Even if his motives were self-centred, it was still playing the hero. Right?

Eroica allowed himself to smile again, thinking of his darling Major.

Dorian paused for a moment and frowned ever-so-slightly. Here he was, racing through the most famous museum in the world, seconds of precious time before the guards caught him ticking away, and he was so busy thinking about Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach that he had almost run right past the room with the Da Vinci!

_And God only knows what a blunder _that_ would have been_…Dorian sighed, eyeing the painting carefully for a moment…could the master art-thief Eroica possibly be slipping after all these years?

_Hell, no! _

Afterall, it was only natural to get a little distracted by a man as dashingly good-looking as his beloved Major was. And he had been doing the 'art thief' bit for a long time now. Dorian sighed, wondering if he wasn't missing something bigger in the grand scheme of the universe. But then, he was young, beautiful, rich and always got what he wanted, didn't he? What more could he ask for?

"Let's see…pressure sensitive alarms should have been taken out with the main power by Bonham and the boys five minutes ago…so…here goes." He took the heavy ornate frame firmly in his grip, eyeing the beautiful figure immortalized by oil and canvas, shining locks of auburn hair, softly shimmering flesh.

"And you love it don't you, darling?" he grinned. "The hours of attention, their eyes on you all day, envious, lustful, knowing they can never possess you. I understand perfectly. And I hate to ruin it for you, really I do. But," here he lowered his voice to a silky whisper and leaned closer to the canvas, so that his breath brushed the famous display of colourful oil paints, "Come home with me, darling, and I'll make you forget all the others."

Eroica's laughter bubbled up rich and golden, a genuine laugh for the first time since he had returned from his last saving-the-world-successful but_ not_ Klaus-seducing-successful NATO mission.

How splendid! There was nothing quite like a little burglary to chase the blues away. Gripping the ornate frame in his hands, Eroica pulled the painting from the wall of the Louvre with one incessant tug.

Instantly, the lights flooded on and a alarm began ringing in his ears so shrilly that the Earl thought his head might split open. The thief's mouth formed into the smallest of frowns.

"Oh, _drats_."

Truth be told, it didn't really bother him all that much. Why should it? He was _Eroica_, after all. Whatever he wanted, he always got. No one could really stop him. The guards might suspect him, but they would never see him. They might chase him, but they would never catch him.

Holding the painting in a tight grip, Dorian raced back down the main hall, dodging behind a large double door that was slightly ajar, just as a pair of guards raced into the room, flashlights shining, truncheons at the ready. Eroica, meanwhile, hid quite comfortably in the shadows until he was certain the museum security had gone on to the other rooms and galleries.

Finally, he slipped out through an open window. After all, the alarms were already going off, and his men were right there ready and waiting for him as he dropped the priceless canvas into the waiting hands of several expert thieves.

Seconds later, he was safe in the back of spacious limousine, and the Eroica gang was quickly disappearing into the night.

When the guards reached the room that had once held a priceless painting by Leonardo Da Vinci, all that was left for them to find was a small white card reading _Many thanks, From Eroica with Love_, that smelt of roses.

Back in North Downs, England, at Castle Gloria, champagne bottles burst open and thieves cheered. Poor James, the Earl's loving but penny-pinching accountant, nearly had a fit when he saw the carousing band downing the contents of a dozen or so vintage bottles. "My loooord! Please! You can't just _drink_ that—think of how expensive it was!"

Luckily, Bonham was there to come to the rescue. "James, go count some money, why don't you? Or write up some invoices or something."

The younger man looked up at him through messy waves of black hair. "Wh—"

"Come on, James," Bonham continued in a carefully lowered voice. "Haven't you seen how _depressed_ the Earl's been lately? Let him enjoy this."

Bonham spoke quietly, but not so quietly that Dorian Red Gloria didn't catch it. "What's this? Depressed? Surely you aren't talking about _moi_?" he blinked, tossing a shimmering wave of curls back over one shoulder. "You should know better, both of you! Honestly—'depressed' isn't in my dictionary!"

"Yeah…but…" Bonham tried, he shifted uncomfortably. "It's not quite that…it's just…you've been _different_ lately, m'lord. I'm not meaning to pry into your personal life more than a friend should, but—"

"So _don't_," Dorian took a delicate sip from his champagne.

"But—! You've seemed so lonely lately. You don't go out and have fun like you used to. I remember a time when you never stopped laughing. And now…there are times when you don't think we're watching that you look…well…you look downright _sad_," Bonham said quietly.

The Earl stared at them blankly for a moment, and then laughed loudly. He was a good actor, it would have fooled all of his men _but_ Bonham. Bonham sensed that there was something forced behind that laughter, that not-quite-so-care-free-as-it-once-was smile.

Evidently, James, for all his stinginess and whining, noticed something was slightly amiss as well, for he wasted no time in piping: "You should stop pining over that machine-crazed maniac, already!"

"The Major is not a maniac!" Dorian replied automatically, emptying his champagne flute in one swift motion.

"He _did_ chase you down the autobahn in a leopard _tank_, m'lord," Bonham reminded him gently.

The Earl's mouth twitched into a fond half-smile at the memory. "He _does_ love his toys, doesn't he? Tanks, and helicopters, and submarines..."

"But he doesn't love_ you_!" James whined, unpleasantly cutting off the Earl's fond recollection. "You should just forget about that arrogant German once and for all! Please!"

"The Major is just a little stubborn," Dorian frowned. "I'm sure that he will come around eventually. Besides _I_ am the Earl of Gloria, I am not 'pining'over anyone. He _is_ meant for me. It's only a matter of time before—"

"A matter of time? A _little _stubborn?" Bonham exclaimed. "It's been years now, and so far he's shown nothing but utter contempt for you—"

"Enough! I don't want to talk about this right now," Dorian added in a softer tone. "I'm tired. I shall be retiring for the evening."

Bonham and James watched him leave, loyal faces heavy with concern. "What do we do now?" James asked, whimpering slightly at seeing his beloved lord so uncharacteristically distressed.

"It's part of his nature to keep hanging on to hope like that…I doubt anything we say or do could change his mind now," Bonhom replied, shaking his head sadly. "But I just pray…I don't know. Maybe too much hope has the same effect on a man as despair."

"God…" the little accountant murmured, wringing his hands together nervously. "I hope not."

"Besides…I wouldn't call it contempt…exactly," Dorian murmured, closing the handsome oak door of his master bedroom tightly behind him and falling with the elegant grace of a dancer to a lush feather mattress, his golden locks running over the pillows beneath him. "…it's _not_ contempt!…No, those quiet looks he gives me, like on the Michelangelo when he stopped to help me walk…The Major is a wonderful man, deep inside…I _know_ he is!…I will somehow get through that great wall he has built up all around himself…I will…make him see that he is…mine."

Dorian Red Gloria was the sort of person who just _inspired_ loyalty in those around him. No, even more than loyalty. Devotion, love, worship. He was beautiful, and graceful, eloquent and cordial, amicable and effortlessly charming. No matter how many strapping young men he flirted with he always seemed to glow in a golden halo of purity. No matter how many times he teased or flaunted himself there was always something innocent, childlike and sincere in his expression.

Growing up, everyone had always loved him. Well, most everyone. There were always the few who couldn't stand to see someone as utterly free and self-assured as the flamboyant young aristocrat, with his fabulous golden bracelets and shimmering capes and cloaks, but that was _their _loss and he had never much dwelt on it.

Teachers had adored him, his father had doted on him, and he had always been surrounded by more friends than he could remember names for, just because he had that sort of warm, charming, personality.

He was a narcissist, self-confident, slightly eccentric, perhaps, full of life, always smiling. Slightly spoiled? Maybe. He _always_ got what he wanted. He always got _who_ he wanted!

Until he had met the Major. Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach of NATO Intelligence. "Iron Klaus," who had an inherent disdain for the Earl's flashy, egotistical-though-charming character, and coldly rejected the very thought of his advances.

But Dorian Red Gloria had always gotten what he wanted. There was no chance that he was going to give up on getting the one thing that he wanted most.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It felt like it should have been a Friday, when it was a Monday. Major Eberbach felt lost, tired, and strangely restless and exhausted at the same time, irritated, although he could not have answered why. For once there was no annoying degenerate aristocratic thief snooping about to harass him. Indeed, Klaus had not caught sight of Eroica in weeks. It was strangely annoying not to have anyone around to blame his exasperation on.

He cursed under his breath, and flicked his cigarette into the muddied puddles of rainwater that gathered in the cracked cement. The October sky was grey and heavy with storm clouds and the smell of rain.

Doing his job had never seemed so much of a chore. After all, he was one of NATO's finest, protecting the free world and all that, but somehow, lately, it just didn't feel like enough. Not that there was anything else he would rather be doing. Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach was not the sort to idle around listlessly! No, the very notion of _not _working was enough to drive him mad. Not to mention that he dreaded the thought of returning to the Schloss Eberbach estate for the hostile confrontations with his father, all concerning his lack of a wife and heir.

He cursed again, running a hand harshly through his long dark hair, glaring at no one and nothing. He wanted to shoot something. Badly.

His shoulders were tensed, almost painfully, but his limbs felt tired and heavy. Groaning silently, the Major closed his eyes for a moment, the lids felt heavy and were reluctant to open. The beginnings of a headache were gathering dully behind his temples.

"You look like crap," his Chief had told him, the moment he had arrived at the NATO Intelligence office in Bonn. The Major's glare would have sent his Alphabet's fleeing to Alaska, his superior merely snorted. Klaus noted with some tiredness that he had not even the will left to shout any of the various German curses that were running through his head.

When he reached his office, he sat behind his familiar desk, and summoned agents A,B, G and Z. The young men huddled in his office, nervous expressions flitting across their faces. It seemed that no one was in a hurry to go to Alaska. He knew that he probably looked as annoyed and angryas he felt. Although _why_ he still wasn't certain.

_Chalk it up to boredom, _he told himself finally. _I _really _want to shoot something._

"S—sir," Herr B stuttered, shifting uncomfortably under the Major's chilled gaze. At least his agents were still petrified of him. "Um…maybe you just…need to takea…a…a vacation," the agent offered meekly.

"I am IRON KLAUS!" the Major thundered suddenly, his fists slamming into the table with enough force to cause a tremor to shudder through the entire room. "I do NOT need a vacation! What I NEED is a God-damn job! How long has it been since our last mission? What are the Soviets up to now? Herr Z—progress report. Now!"

"Uh—th—there's nothing much, Major. But the Chief gave me this. Said it was sent down from the—the higher ups," the young man told him, procuring a thin folder rather nervously. His expression said all to clearly that the Major would not like what he was about to see. And, Z thought, gulping silently, the Major seemed, if it were at all possible, even more high-strung than usual, with a certain glint in his eyes that seemed to say 'I want to snap someone's spine in two—_don't_ tick me off.'

The Major snatched the folder from him, almost tearing it in two, and scanned the contents quickly. A moment later, green eyes flashed menacingly and Klaus Eberbach gripped the corners of his desk until his knuckles whitened.

A, B, andG quickly scurried out of the small office, cowering and leaving a wincing agent Z, who steeled himself for the Major's enraged roar.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" Slamming the folder down on the desk, the Major looked absolutely murderous. "Is this some sort of sick joke? Do those idiot higher-ups think that they can relegate THE Iron Klaus to this sort of—of—farce! This is even more idiotic than the case with that wimpy boy and his alleged ESP. Did you look at this, Herr Z?"

"Uh…well…"

"An _alien_?" the Major snorted in contempt and disgust, jerking a cigarette from the pack lodged securely in the pocket of his uniform. "I don't fucking believe this…"

Z hazarded a glance at the photographs gathered by one of NATO's other Intelligence units. They showed an average-enough looking man in a dark leather jacket, short black hair and, the young agent noted, perhaps slightly large ears. He certainly didn't_ look_ very remarkable. "You mean…an illegal alien? Is that really a job for NATO Intelligence? Unless he's a spy for the other side, I mean…"

Major Eberbach sighed tiredly, taking a deep drag off his cigarette. "You're a good German boy, Herr Z, but unfortunately our superiors aren't as intelligent. The file states that this man…supposedly called 'Herr Doctor' may be a…" Major Eberbach growled low in his throat, grinding his cigarette mercilessly into apile of smouldering ash in the tray on his desk. "An _extraterrestrial_." He dripped the term from his tongue like acid. "Of all the damn nonsense…"

Z looked at the Major for several long moments, afraid to blink, or move, or _breathe _because the Major looked genuinely angry enough break someone's neck, and the six-foot Iron Klaus was only too capable of doing just that.

Finally, because his commanding officer had begun to stare into space with a look of pure vehemence and loathing (probably directed at the absent superiors who had allotted the 'alien doctor' mission to their department) the young agent coughed ever-so-slightly to remind Klaus of his presence. And hopefully not be banished to Alaska for the next million years because of it.

"Um…a…a_ space _alien, then, sir? That science fiction stuff _is_ all the rage right now…"

"This is pure idiocy. This sort of farce has no business in a military operation. We're here waiting on pins and needles for the other side to drop a nuclear bomb on our heads and the higher ups are worried about _aliens_? I'm going to talk to the director about this nonsense," Klaus scowled. "Orders are orders, but this is ridiculous!"

With that, the Major took the file in hand and marched out of his office, slamming the door with enough force to make Z jump and shudder. Klaus was always sort of angry, but he was rarely _this _angry. This was Eroica-level anger, and the agent shuddered to think what it meant for their Chief…

The Chief looked up in feigned surprise as Major Eberbach slammed the file folder marked 'Doctor Who?' down on his desk. The rather heavy-set operations director drummed his fingers along the edge of the desk, looking up at his imposing and quite dangerous subordinate rather nervously. "Is there a problem, Major?"

Klaus merely glowered at him with a look that would have curdled the devil's blood, too angry even to yell. And for Major Eberbach, that was downright murderous rage. The Chief coughed slightly, and paused to open the file, allowing the scattered black and white photographs to tumble out. "This is a serious matter, Major. This man is a real mystery. We can't find any information on him in any government or military database, even his name is unknown—he simply goes by the codename 'Doctor.' He often disappears for months—even years—and no one sees a trace of him, like he vanishes off the face of th—"

"Don't say it. Don't even _think_ anything so bloody ridiculous!" the Major growled.

"Excuse me, Major, but we have had numerous other intelligence units working on this case for several years now, since before the Cold War began, actually. They've uncovered some very interesting pictures. Look carefully at this…" the Chief pushed a few choice black and white photos across the table, facing Eberbach.

Klaus studied them silently for a moment, hands still clenched in rage at his sides. It took him a moment to really focus on the pictures. The first one appeared to be a photograph taken during the Great War. A group of soldiers stood around an old battered army jeep. Someone had marked one of them with a red circle, and peering closely at it Klaus saw what might have been a face similar to the one of the mysterious 'Doctor,' but the picture was old and small and blurry. He snorted derisively, it was hardly enough to impress the likes of Iron Klaus.

The next photograph showed a collection of people in fancy attire leaning over the bow of a ship marked 'TITANIC.' Again, one of the characters was circled by red marker and bore a disturbing resemblance to their 'Doctor.'

There were a dozen more photographs. Snapshots from a lecture given by Albert Einstein in Berlin in 1915, the Doctor among the gathered listeners. Photographs from the Russian Revolution, the assassination of the American President Kennedy, the conference of Versailles, the student riots in Paris in 1968, the Korean War…the Doctor seemed to exist anywhere and anytime. Despite himself, Klaus felt his brow creasing in concentration and an unsettling chill ran down his spine. He quickly brushed the disturbing feeling away and straightened, fixing the Chief with his usual chilling glare.

"I am sure that many people in the world and throughout history have looked similar, especially as ordinary looking as this man is…I am sure that there are probably many men in the world who resemble this 'Doctor' of yours," Klaus sneered.

"Maybe so," the Chief shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "But that is not _your _decision to make, Major. Besides, even if he isn't from another planet, his disappearances are troublesome, he could still be a spy for the other side. We've received reports that he seems to have some strange objects…gadgets, our spies have said. He could have some secret technology the Soviets are using, or are planning on using. In any case, this 'Doctor' is worth looking into, whoever he is."

The Major snorted.

"I trust you will have no trouble finding us this man, Herr Eberbach?" the Chief asked, his tone threatening.

"…of course I will follow orders," Klaus replied coldly, "Even if they are utterly ludicrous. After all, if I was incapable of doing something as simple as catching this man, I would not be worthy of being a Major _or _an Eberbach."

"Glad to hear it," the Chief said, although his tone was laced with trepidation.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Klaus asked, green eyes narrowing menacingly as though daring the operations director to add anything possibly _more _humiliating to the farce of a mission.

"Um, well, we _had_ an inside man ready to meet with you. He claimed to have information on the Doctor, information we greatly need. However, we came up against a bit of a snag. It seems that the Russians discovered him to be a traitor, and well…" the Chief trailed off, obviously not wanting to go into anymore detail than necessary. "But we still think we might be able to get the information. Word is he kept a journal or folder or something. So we need it…stolen."

"_Mein Gott_," the Major breathed, hands clenching into fists _again_ as he saw where the conversation was leading. "Don't tell me…"

"Since Eroica has proven to be a reliable contractor for NATO in the past, and works well with your team—"

"Don't tell me that perverted fop works well with my team! That man is a nuisance and disgrace—he endangers every NATO mission he involves himself in! Besides, I'm sure our NATO professionals are more than capable of—"

"This mission will require breaking into some of the most advanced security systems we've come up against to date," the Chief continued.

_Damn the idiot director, he's getting some perverse sadistic pleasure out of this, I know it!_ Klaus shouted internally, gritting his teeth, his jaw tightened and he felt as though a blood vessel in his temple was about to explode. There was nothing on Earth more aggravating then having to actually _work _with that _damn perverted-Godless-sensuous-hedonistic-degenerate-gorgeous-idiot-thief Eroica!_

And at that moment, the door to the Chief's office swung open and, like a dazzling explosion of sunlight in the barren depths of a black cave, there stood the Earl of Gloria himself, wearing one of his familiar border-line insane smiles.

_Well, speak of the Devil and he shall appear…_the German winced as Eroica, as flamboyant and ostentatious as ever, waltzed into the Chief's office. He was wearing a smooth white silk shirt, billowing in wispy folds of lace and ruffles, accented with large gold bracelets and a long necklace of pearls. He wore a pair of tight black pants and his long mane of rich golden curls fell ina cascading halo down past his waist.

"Why Major, darling, how wonderful to finally see you again!" the Earl crooned, "It _must_ be destiny at work, don't you think?" he asked, batting long golden eyelashes.

Klaus could feel his blood boiling, it was more infuriating then anything else, having to put up with the Earl's foppish antics. Why the idiot felt the need to flaunt himself and exhibit almost every bloody stereotype—

"Isn't it just_ wonderful_ that we'll be working together again? I think it's positively lovely! You know I do so miss these missions together—"

"We do not EVER have missions together. YOU get in my way! Besides, it's just a game to you, isn't it?" the Major snarled, quickly brushing past Eroica and thundering out of his superior's office.

"Just a game…?" the thief echoed, following on his beloved Major's heels and not the least bit put off by the German's frosty attitude. "Well, Z _did_ tell me we were hunting for an alien." Eroica grinned madly, biting back a giggle he knew his darling would not appreciate.

"Herr Z is not permitted to tell you such classified things! The only thing you need to worry about is stealing what we tell you to—"

"Oh of course darling, of course…"

"DON'Tcall me that!" the Major growled threateningly.

"Actually, I think it's all terribly exciting…and just imagine if it were true?"

"It is not true so just…shut…up!"

Dorian pouted slightly, twisting a golden curl around his fingers as the Major's Alphabets scattered busily around them, all trying to look as hard at work as possible. Little G gave Dorian a sympathetic smile and ducked hurriedly away as the Major turned back to the Earl.

"I'll get you the necessary information, the layouts of the grounds we'll need to infiltrate and what security we can expect," he said grudgingly, returning to his own office.

Dorian nodded, he did not seem in any way put out by the fact that they were going to invade enemy territory with the threat of death or worse hanging over their heads. In fact, how many times had he cheerfully run headlong into danger, risking life and limb, for Klaus' sake?

The Major shook his head quickly, emptying it of such thoughts…After all, there was no cause to be worried. The mission was simple. They would be fine. There was no reason to worry. No reason at all.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As soon as Eroica and the Major had left his office, the Chief sighed deeply, and shakily clutched the edge of his desk, his rubbery fingers taken in a seize of violent trembling as a shiver ran up his spine and a cold sweat broke out along his brow. Fumbling in his jacket pocket, the old man pulled out a handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his forehead, even as his breath began to hitch and his chest convulsed painfully. A dull ringing rose in his ears, becoming more and more painful until the man thought he would pass out altogether.

When it subsided, another man was standing in the office, just slightly behind him, so that the Chief could not see him. Nevertheless, he felt the other man's presence—it sent shivers running up and down his spine and he felt vomit burning in the back of his throat.

"I—I—I—didit a—as you—commanded…" the Chief choked, gasping for air as his throat constricted, his entire body overtaken with violent tremors.

He could feel the man behind him smile. It was not a pleasant feeling, it sent a fresh ripple of cold terror down the Chief's spine.

"Puh—please don't make me…do this…there's still time to…ulp…ca—ca—call it off…"

"NO," a voice, as loud as thunder, harsh and grating hissed. "THEY MUST DIE."

"I—Idon't care about the thief—God knows—he's been wanted by Interpol for years now…but…the Major…really is the best field officer…we've got… as much as I hate the man…don't want to see him…die…this way…urg—"

The Chief's words were cut off in a low gurgle of pain, the lines on his face contracted, his skin turning red and then purple. He clawed at his throat, but to no avail, as though invisible claws were wrapped tightly around him, choking the life from his body with a frigid metal grasp.

The Chief's body twitched and convulsed, he was staring up at the empty white ceiling, and somewhere he thought he heard the low murmur of faintly mechanical voices singing against his ear.

"Those two…"

"Both…"

"…the Doctor must be…"

"Lured out…"

"…Trapped…"

"…and the girl…"

"All will die…."

"All worlds will end…"

"The Big Bad Wolf..."

"And Time itself…will…"

Faintly, he seemed to hear the terrified scream of Agent G, and something like a far off explosion, the heat of a fire, and everything went black.

**To be continued in Episode 02: Stealing the TARDIS**


	2. Episode 02: Stealing the TARDIS

**Episode 02: Stealing the TARDIS**

And it had all just gone so terribly, horribly fucking wrong.

That was the one coherent thought drumming its way through the Major's skull as he watched three mammoth-like KGB operatives bind Eroica's limp form to a small wooden chair. He felt the tight coarse rope biting deeply into the raw skin of his own wrists, and the heavy cold metal of a gun resting at the base of hisskull. He gritted his teeth.

This was not how it was supposed to go. He was Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach. He was NATO's best, and it should have been a simple enough operation. The building they were casing had been large and dark and it looked like the empty, decaying skeletal remains of a hospital or a hotel. The windows, the few that remained, were either boarded up or tinted black. He and the Earl had snuck in well after dark, and made their way down the stairs to the basement, and had been in the process of cracking the safe the Earl had assured him was archaic and simple, when it had become apparent that they were not the only ones in the room.

Painfully apparent.

Klaus saw again, repeating in his inner mind, the smoking bullet holes that had exploded in the wall inches from the thief's head, saw the blue eyes widen in surprise and the hands falter in picking the lock on the oh-so-archaic-and-simple safe. The Major had his magnum ready, but it was no use—they were surrounded and lost before it had even begun.

And now, Klaus cursed himself. He was helpless, and they were both compromised. Because of him. _Disgraceful! This is disgraceful! How could I have been so fucking stupid? How could I not realize it was a trap? _His thoughts swam in circles, as the head gunman gestured to the other enemy agents and they left, for the moment, disappearing behind a large metal door and closing it behind them with an audible clank. And then…_Who set us up?_

The Major's eyes closed in a silent grimace and when he opened them he saw Eroica shifting slightly in his chair, the tumble of golden curls falling elegantly over the broad shoulders and toned chest, revealed through the skin-tight black burglary suit the thief wore. Frowning, Klaus wasn't entirely certain if it was distasteful or not for the thief to manage looking so elegant even with fresh bruises forming along his jaw and bound to a chair.

When the blue crystal eyes opened, it was almost more than the Major could endure, to see the uncharacteristic confusion and fear spread through them as the thief struggled for a moment against his bindings, before remembering where he was, and relenting. "Major…"

"I don't know," he answered. _Where we are. What's going to happen to us. Who's responsible. Well, besides myself. _"It's your own fault for always sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong," he said suddenly. He wasn't even sure why he said it, other than to curb some of the guilt that was already building in his gut.

"…I wasn't going to blame you," came the quiet response. "We can get out of here, though, can't we?"

_Not likely._

"Can't we?" the voice repeated, slightly shaken this time, slightly less composed.

"Major?"

"Answer me!"

"No," he said simply. And then, steeled himself to say something to the thief who had spent the last ten years steadily annoying, frustrating and terrifying him, something he had never expected to say to the accursed fop: "…I'm sorry."

He could feel the Earl's stare on him for a moment, though he could not bring himself to look at the thief just then. How would all of that golden hair look, matted with blood? Klaus felt the knots in his stomach jolt at the sudden thought; the skin along his neck crawled and he repressed a shudder. The thief, as annoying and troublesome as he had always been, was still a civilian. He didn't deserve whatever the KGB terrorists were going to do to him.

"I…oh I see…" Eroica's voice was quiet, as though the weight of those words was just dawning on him. "_Klaus_—I—_look at me_!"

It didn't seem right, how he had to wrestle with himself just to get his eyes to focus on the damn thief. Annoying wanker, he kept running that through his mind, trying to convince himself that the thief deserved whatever he got, all the while knowing it was a lie.

"Major…I'm sorry, too."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. It was my mission. I failed. I'm the one who should be…sorry." And he was. More than he would have expected to be.

"I just…" the thief looked away for a moment, large blue eyes filled with…Klaus wasn't sure. It made him feel uncomfortable and guilty. That damn look again, that he so often found in the thief's eyes when he caught the blond man staring at him. "I don't regret it. I'm still glad…you're the best thing in my life, Major."

Foppish poetic nonsense.

"I wonder if you'll be thinking that when they start cutting off body parts."

He watched Eroica's face lose all of its colour, and the thief staring at him with a wide-eyed, frighteningly blank expression. Klaus felt the life drain from his own face as well, as he realized with a sickening pain in his gut that he had not been joking.

The door opened with a bang, and Klaus tightened his muscles in preparation for the worst. He was prepared to see Mischa the Cub, he was prepared for electric shocks and knives and fists and bullets. He was prepared for torture, interrogation, humiliation, and death.

But he _wasn't_ prepared for a little robot dog that whisked into the room, gliding above the dirt-streaked cement. It's body looked altogether like a grey metal box, with a sort of dog-shaped head and snout, a band of red laser acting as the 'eyes.' Tiny clear satellite dishes perked up for the ears, and its nose seemed to be some sort of scanner.

Dorian and Klaus stared at it for a moment, unblinking. Finally Dorian managed to choke: "What…is that, Major?"

The robot dog swivelled around and fixed the Earl with its red sight for a moment before chirping crisply: "Voice recognition and holographic image processing...CONFIRMED. Subject: Dorian Red Gloria, Earl of Gloria, other current alias:Eroica. Species Classification: Human, or, Earthman."

"You don't suppose it's a…toy, do you?" the thief asked.

"I…don't know what the KGB would be doing with a…toy." Klaus answered finally.

"Subject: Major Klaus Heinz von Dem Eberbach of NATO Intelligence. Searching databank records...CONFIRMED. Species Classification: Human, or, Earthman," the robot continued. "Requested subjects are located, Mistress."

"Hey, hold up there, K-9!" a voice called, and a moment later a young woman, ran through the open doorway, brushing a long strand of silky golden hair back over her shoulders as she did so. "Damn, you've got yourselves into a bit of a mess here, haven't you, mates?" she asked, glancing at Klaus and Dorian.

"You sound English," the Earl said. "Who are you? Are you from MI5?...are you with Lawrence?"

"MI5?" she repeated, obviously stifling a laugh as she shook her head at them. "Do I look like someone from MI5? What do you think? Come on now, let's get you out of here. I'm Rose Tyler, by the way."

"And how do you propose to 'get us out of here,' exactly?" the Major asked, his voice quickly returning to its usual cold and harsh tonality. "A civilian woman has no place here. Get out before the KGB operatives come back!"

"K-9, burn those ropes," Rose said, meanwhile looking around with an air of impatience. "God! Where has he gone off to now? And just when we may need him, of course."

Dorian gasped sharply as a bright red laser shot out of the robot dog's nose and burned into the thick knots of rope that bound his arms to the chair. The smell of burning rope and the thick singeing crackle caused a momentary wash of panic to sweep through him before the light shut off and the rope tumbled to the cement floor in charred fragments. Shivering once, the Earl pulled himself together and practically leapt out of the chair, stumbling backwards, against the wall.

"Well don't look so surprised, it's a perfectly ordinary electric dog!" Rose laughed, before assuming an almost-apologetic expression as the laser turned it's sights to Klaus' bindings. "I understand, though, I guess I'd have been just as surprised just a few weeks ago. Hard to believe, now…"

"It doesn't matter," the Major said gruffly, stretching out his arms as he stood, shaking off the last bits of rope with a cool indifference. "I suppose you have some sort of a plan on how we are to get out of here?"

"…Right. A plan, then…" Rose repeated, nodding thoughtfully. "A plan..."

"The plan is to run!" a voice called behind them. Dorian turned to the door, and a man, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties, with short black hair and a leather jacket practically ran into him. "I've taken care of the KGB on this floor, but I think they're calling for back-up and we really don't want to be here OR now when their boss finds out about this. _Trust_ me."

"Right," Dorian agreed, nodding and began to head after the stranger when he felt Klaus' hand grab his shoulder roughly and jerk him backwards so harshly he nearly fell over. "What is it?" he asked, startled to see a venomous seething glint in the Major's glass-green eyes.

"You," the Major breathed through clenched teeth. "You're the 'Doctor,' aren't you?"

"Why yes, yes I am," the man grinned widely, seemingly oblivious to Iron Klaus' murderous glare, and extended his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Major Eberbach."

"Doctor…is that some sort of code name? What is your real identity? Who do you work for? Answer me!" the Major commanded.

"Terribly sorry, Major. But I'm afraid we don't have time for codes and manners, right at the moment," the Doctor replied briskly.

Klaus instinctively reached for his magnum, before remembering the KGB had, naturally, disarmed him. He felt unsettlingly naked without the firearm and settled for fixing the Doctor and his female companion with one of his most icy glares. The sort of glare that made his subordinates _want _to get on that plane for Alaska. "We can not trust these people, Eroica."

"What? Why not?" the thief asked, tossing a wave of shimmering golden curls back over his shoulder. "Weren't they in the process of saving us from torture and a grisly death, or did I just miss something here?"

"Yeah, that's right—we're trying to save your lives!" Rose cried indignantly. "So let's hurry up and get out of here before those creepy guys get back."

"This man is wanted by NATO Intelligence," the Major stated firmly. "He may be a spy for the other side."

"Oh really, is that all?" The Doctor asked. "And who do you think set up this trap, Major? It obviously wasn't _me,_ if I'm risking my neck to get you out. Who was it that told you the Russians had information on me that your superiors wanted, anyways? I think if you look at the matter closely you'll see it was NATO who sent you straight into this trap. The fact is, there never was any Russian spy or information for you to garnish. The only things they're keeping in the safe downstairs are torture devices for when they catch us!"

Klaus was fairly sure he could feel his face changing colour as the blood curdled painfully in his temples.

"Um, could we maybe get out of here before we kill each other?" Eroica asked, looking worriedly from Klaus to the Doctor and back again.

The loud Russian voices in the hallway outside decided the matter for them. Klaus swore as the voices and pounding militaristic footsteps grew louder.

"We have to get out of here!" Rose shouted in a whisper, looking worriedly at the Doctor. "Like, _now_!"

"You can trust us," the stranger said, looking directly at Klaus and Dorian with a startlingly intensity that had not been there a moment ago.

But the Major was not a trusting man under normal circumstances, let alone trapped in some God-forsaken KGB hideout, unarmed, with a bunch of sadistic killers chasing them. The robot dog spun around again, facing the Doctor. "Nine men approaching through left hallway, Master. My scanners detect several primitive firearms in their position."

"The left hallway, eh? Then I guess we're taking the right!" the Doctor exclaimed. Impossibly, the man was smiling again, and reached a hand for Rose, who took it without hesitation and the two darted out of the small interrogation cell, the robotic dog skidding along at their heels.

So, because there was no where _else_ to go, the Major and Eroica slipped out into the narrow, darkened hallway with them, and the four began to run. A moment later, they heard the gunmen following close behind them, and then they heard the distinctive clatter of heavy boots running down the hallway ahead of them.

Rose gasped as the Doctor pulled her to a shaky halt. Dorian glanced back down the hall over his shoulder. "We're in trouble," he said softly.

"Now what?" Rose asked.

"Well, we're in for a bit of a scuffle, no doubt," the Doctor answered thoughtfully.

"Oh sure, you can act all nonchalant, _you've _got two hearts! Try thinking about the rest of us, hmm?" she asked.

"Hey, I saved us from the alien-inhabited zombies, didn't I?" he flashed her a grin.

The Major had just enough time to scoff at their unprofessionalism. And it began. The KGB operatives swarmed them from both sides, the narrow walls of the hallway constricting their space, as a bullet ricocheted loudly off the wall next to the Earl's head. "That's the SECOND time today!" the thief shouted."I'm getting a little tired of being shot at!"

Rose yelped and ducked down as the spray of bullets roared over them. Dorian dove for cover and managed to kick the legs out from under one of their enemies, the man toppled backwards and a trail of bullets ran across the ceiling as he uselessly pulled the trigger on his gun.

However, in the heat of battle, it was Klaus who stood out among the group, blazing, confident, strong, and completely in his element. He stood unflinching, the image of a proud warrior carved in stone, his gaze piercing and unrelenting. In a moment, he came to life, burning, the fire of war in his eyes and the complete blistering fury that was Iron Klaus set free.

He lunged for the nearest KGB agent, knocking the gun from the man's hands without thought or effort. One rock-hard fist tore through the air and smashed across a man's jaw, and the Russian collapsed in a limp form, a trail of dark blood splashing up from his shattered mouth. A large muscular agent sprang forwards as though to tackle him, and the Major slammed his knee into the giant's gut, grasping the gun from the wounded man as he fell.

It was a magnum. It was _his _magnum. Klaus felt a surge of almost-irrational rage rise up in his chest at the thought of one of the filthy KGB touching _his_gun. "Bastard," he muttered, pulling the trigger and blasting the man's brains out.

"Major, look out!" Eroica's voice warned him just in time, and Klaus swerved around to see the rest of their enemies taking aim and preparing to fire…

"K-9, stun them, quickly!" the Doctor ordered. A brilliant flash of red burst from the robot dog's eyes, and a second later, the rest of the KGB fell lifelessly to the ground, staring up at the ceiling with open, glassy eyes.

"So that thing _is _a weapon," Klaus snorted, pointing his gun at the Doctor. "I should have known."

"Only when he needs to be," the Doctor replied easily, seemingly unaffected by the magnum aimed for his skull. "Listen, you can shoot me all you like, it won't really do you any good. And right now, we just need to get out of here while you still can." With that, he extended a hand to Eroica, helping the thief up.

The next thing the Major saw made his blood run cold (although he wasn't sure why) the thief practically _fell _into the stranger's arms! Eroica may have been a ridiculous fop, which the Major had to grudgingly admit he was at least _used _to, but the Earl was still almost six feet tall and he had_ some_ muscle on him and was capable of taking care of himself in most fights. So why he went nearly limp and practically draped himself over the Doctor, Klaus didn't _want _to think about, although anger was seething in his eyes and his hands clenched into fists. Automatically, he tightened his grip on the magnum.

"Oh, dreadfully sorry! I don't know what came over me," the Earl crooned, looking up at the Doctor almost shyly. "I seem to feel a little _faint _after all this excitement…"

"ENOUGH!" Klaus roared, grabbing a fist full of the thief's hair before he even thought about what he was doing, and pulled, hard.

With a startled yelp, Eroica stumbled backwards, and the Doctor stared on, looking quite baffled and a bit confused. However Rose, standing beside him, Klaus noted, looked positively livid. "Enough is right!" she snapped. "You're a grown man, for Pete's sake, you can stand on your own two feet!"

"More agents approaching from the north," K-9 reported suddenly, and the group abandoned their arguments to look back down the hallway.

"Come on," Dorian said. "Let's get out of here!"

Several minutes and several deserted hallways later, Rose stumbled to a halt, the Doctor stopping to help her. "This place is a bloody maze!" she exclaimed, breathing heavily. "Everywhere we go is just more hallways!"

"Enemies are detected seven yards away," the robot dog reported dutifully.

"What is that, anyways?" Dorian asked, looking at the metal dog curiously. "It's rather cute, you know. I might like one."

"Would you keep your mind on the situation at hand for _once_?" Klaus growled. "We have to find a way out of here."

"I think there's an exit around this next left," the Doctor informed them. "Under the stairwell, it should lead out into an alleyway."

"Good," Klaus muttered, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

"How can you smoke at a time like this?" Rose demanded.

Klaus glared at her.

The gun shots interrupted them once again. The Doctor pulled Rose quickly to the side, Dorian flattened himself against the wall and the Major fired off a volley of quick, precise shots at their enemies, allowing a grim sort of half-smile to twitch along the corners of his lips as, at the far end of the hall, four enemy agents collapsed, red blood splaying up and bursting along the nearby walls.

"Get down!" he heard the Doctor's voice in the background, and in the next instant a horde of masked men burst through the wall next to him.

Burst. Through a thick, solid _wall_. He fired the magnum automatically, only somewhere in the back of his mind registering that the men were all taller than he was, and he was six foot, and all of them, freakishly identical, were built like steroid-induced wrestlers. Their faces were covered by strange metal masks and his bullets didn't seem to do any damage.

But that wasn't possible.

"Shit!" he cursed, flicking the cigarette out of his mouth and diving back, away from the intruders.

He just barely felt Eroica tug at his arm. "This way!" the thief shouted, and a moment later they had slipped through a narrow doorway and were somehow running around the other half of the hall, and climbing out of a gaping, empty window.

It was only after they had dropped from the building, and landed in the cool darkness of the empty trash-littered alleyway that Klaus realized they had been separated from the Doctor and the girl. "God damn it!" he took a deep breath of the cool night air, taking in their surroundings as best he could. "What _was_ that?"

It was also only then that he noticed how pale and shaken the Earl looked. It wasn't like him. After fixing the thief with his inquisitive glance for amoment or two, Eroica turned back to him, offering a shaky and not-in-the-least sincere smile. "D—Did you see those men? With the masks? They just came throughthe _wall_ and then…your bullets…came right off them, Major. Like they didn't even _feel _it."

"Don't be ridiculous," the Major snapped. "It was a trick of the light, the closeness of the hallway, the—the fatigue you are feeling from the previous encounter."

"What are we going to do about the Doctor?" Dorian asked, glancing back to the suddenly forbidding building. "And his friend?"

"They have that dog with them," the Major replied. "Besides, there's nothing we can do about it now. Just listen to the commotion inside."

Inside. They could hear gunshots and explosions. The ground shook beneath them with the crashes of what sounded like pieces of the building already beginning to collapse. "Those…things…will be after us in a few minutes. We should get out of here."

"But…"Dorian cast one last worried look at the dark gaping windows of the building, before shivering slightly, and following Klaus deeper into the shadows of the alley. "I hope they're alright, that's all…" he whispered softly.

"They will be," the Major snorted. "I've been trying to tell you—that man is an agent for the other side. I was sent by NATO to investigate him. We only know him by the code name 'Doctor' and…well, he's the one my idiot superiors think is an 'alien.'"

"Really?" the Earl asked, slowly regaining his usual spirits as he cast the Major a sidelong look. "He didn't seem so bad to me."

"Well I suppose not, you _were _draping yourself all over him, after all!" the Major snapped with a bitterness that he surprised himself with. "It isn't like you tobe clumsy, Eroica," the Major practically growled. "_Or '_faint.' Even you aren't that idiotic, perverted fop though you are. And here you were practically falling all over that strange man!"

"Ooh?" Dorian asked, playfully batting his golden eyelashes at the Major. "Are you jealous, darling?" The Earl practically sang. "If I didn't know any better—"

"Don't be an idiot!" he snapped, barely restraining from hitting the annoying fop. "I was thinking that you must have picked the stranger's pockets."

"Oh, you know me too well, darling," the thief gave a dramatic sigh. "You're right you know, and the man has such curious, curious things….But how did you know that was all it was?"

"He's not your type," the Major snorted with emphasized disgust, glaring at Erocia out of the corner of his eyes.

"Oh no?" the Earl asked a little haughtily. "And just what, pricelessly, makes you say _that_, dear Major?"

"I wouldn't think you would be interested in a man with lines on his face," the Major replied indifferently.

"Do you really think I'm so shallow?" Eroica asked, feigning hurt. "Besides," he added, turning serious. "He did have a _brilliant _smile, it lit up his whole face, just like a little boy! It was adorable, really."

"EROICA! I don't want to hear about whatever PERVERTED thoughts go on in your head!" the Major shouted, turning on the thief so suddenly he could see the surprise in the blond's face. It was rare to shock the thief with his shouting, he mused internally, maybe he _was_ a bit louder than normal. "Just…tell me what he had in his pockets," he sighed tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he felt another headache coming on…

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Shit!" Rose cursed, diving for cover behind a crumbling piece of wall. "What are those things, Doctor?"

"This is worse than I thought," the Doctor mused, watching the giant masked men approach. "K-9, stun them!"

"Negative, Master. Subjects are android. Detecting 97 cyber-biological implants."

"So we're dealing with Cybermen?" he repeated in disbelief. "Surprisingly dangerous looking Cybermen at that! What happened to the skinny guys in tinfoil suits with goggles?"

"Cybermen. Data analysis...NEGATIVE," K-9 replied, seemingly ignoring the Doctor's last comments.

"Well do _something!_" Rose shouted, as the not-Cybermen lumbered towards them.

"Do not move, Doctor," the creatures stated in unison, their voices chopped and static-ridden, fragmented and somehow quite menacing. "Or we will destroy the girl." One large hand raised towards Rose.

"Umm…is that hand loaded?" she asked weakly, remembering the shop mannequins. And these guys were a lot more intimidating than walking plastic.

"Now, now, there's no need to do anything rash," the Doctor said hurriedly. "What do you want? Who are you working for?"

"You will find out soon enough," the alien answered. "When we take you to him, and he kills you, meddlesome Time Lord."

"Oh, well, actually it just so happens we have a previous engagement," the Doctor replied, beginning to back away, pulling Rose with him. "It seems we are just in the middle of…well…_living_, really." He reached into the pockets of his leather jacket and felt around. "Now, where's my Sonic Screwdriver? Oh sh…"

"Doctor?" Rose asked.

"New plan, Rose! Run for your life!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"What do you suppose this is for, Major?" Dorian asked, twirling the small ratchet-shaped wand around his fingers. It was long and cylindrical, made of some sort of metal, with a grip end, a series of control bands, and some sort of emitter that cast a bright blue light when he squeezed the trigger. It was sort of pretty he decided, whatever it was.

"How the hell should I know?" Klaus retorted, snatching the shiny thing away from the thief for closer examination. "Must be some new technology the Soviets are using. We'll hand it over to NATO when we get back."

"You don't suppose it's some sort of—of _toy_ do you?" Eroica asked suddenly, biting back a giggle, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"_Nein_,do not be stupid, thief. What sort of—PERVERT!" and he had the pleasure of watching Iron Klaus' face change several angry colours before the--item inquestion--was chucked forcibly at his head.

Eroica somehow managed to stifle his laughter, returned the strange device to his pockets and jogged a little to catch up with the Major, who was muttering what sounded like angry German curses under his breath. "There's this too," he said, pulling out a small blank card, and an ordinary-enough-looking key.

"What good is a blank piece of paper?" the Major muttered. Then froze suddenly, his head jerking back intently, as though he were listening for something, his long black hair brushing across his face in a way that made the Earl sigh contently at how beautiful his beloved look in profile. "Stifle whatever perverted thoughts you are thinking," the Major said sharply, turning back to him and eyeing the thief's glazed happy expression with supreme annoyance. "We are being followed."

"What? Followed?" Eroica asked, shaking off his reverie and glancing around the dark alleyway, but it was no good, the shadows were too deep and black for even his excellent night vision.

"_Ja_, this way," the Major hissed, turning sharply out of the alley, Dorian following him. By this time, Dorian heard the heavy uniformed footfalls behind them as well and voices giving orders in Russian. Orders that sounded somehow less-than friendly.

"We can't fight them in the dark! We don't even know how many there are," he said after a moment, surveying the dark and empty street. That was when it caugh this eye.

Perched on the corner of the abandoned street stood a blue police callbox. He pointed it out to Klaus. The German regarded the blue box suspiciously, but Dorian chalked it up to the fact that Klaus regarded _everything _suspiciously.

"Don't you even _wonder_ what a_ London_ police box is doing in the middle of Soviet Russia?" the Major asked, scowling darkly.

"Who cares," Eroica replied easily. "It's a place to hide, isn't it?"

"NATO operatives do not 'hide.'"

"You know I love you, darling, but even _you _can't shoot those guys in the dark—God, I just _can't _pick this lock!" somehow they had crossed the street and were standing behind the police box, Eroica kneeling down and trying to pick the lock (not that he was sure why a police box would even _be _locked!) and the thing was like nothing he had ever encountered before in all his years of thieving. He was more than a little mortified at his inability to open the damn thing, and was secretly thankful the Major was too distracted looking out for KGB agents and masked giants to notice the trouble he was having.

Then he remembered the key he'd stolen from the Doctor. Well, it was a long-shot if ever there was one, but as a thief he had learned to survive on hunches before, so, Eroica fished the small nondescript key out of his pocket and put it in the lock.

It fit perfectly.

"…huh."

"What?" Klaus hissed.

"I think this police box belongs to that Doctor," the Earl said uneasily.

"That makes no sense,"

"As much sense as a London police box being in the middle of Soviet Russia, darling," Dorian murmured. "Besides, I thought they dismantled all of these _years _ago."

"Enough!" the Major ordered, "They're coming, get in!" So together, they ducked into the blue police box.

Everything was pitch black, that was Dorian's first thought as he felt the wooden door close behind them. The Major had walked in front of him, and was suddenly standing still, blocking his path. Dorian collided with Klaus' back, and stumbled around him a bit shakily, grasping the German's arm. He expected to be pushed roughly away, but the Major was just standing there, perfectly still, as though in shock. "Darling, what's—"

And then he saw. The inside of the police box…they weren't inside of a police box at all! The room opened up into a massive circular area, tall metal arms snaking down like twisted support columns, the walls—spacious around them, were tall and the sheen of silver metal was covered by a dully glowing coral-like material. The…room…appeared to be a mesh of technology and organic life. While Dorian was gazing with wide eyes and not the least bit of awe, Klaus noticed that in the centre of the large circular room stood a thick clear column made of something like metal-glass, in the centre of a many-sided control station. Piled all around it was a rather chaotic mess of machinery—computer screens, metal trays and convoluted messes of wire and cables, levers, cranks and so much Dorian couldn't even fathom what it could possibly be used for. He caught sight of doorways and the corners of hallways stretching out around them as well, it seemed incredibly, impossibly huge.

"Are you sure this is…the police box?" he whispered after a moment.

Klaus made a sort of disconcerted sound deep in his throat and turned hastily, groping for the door, but froze when Dorian tugged on his coat. "We can't go back out there, the KGB are looking for us. Remember, the not-so-pleasant prospect of torture and death?" Dorian whispered, just the faintest tremor shaking his voice.

"Alright, alright…" the Major growled quietly, taking a deep breath he seemed to steel himself and drew himself together, turning back to face the…

"It looks like a control room of sorts," Dorian said softly, walking back towards the array of machines. "Don't you think?"

"What the hell is it?" the Major asked in a low voice, rubbing the bridge of his nose and roughly jerking a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. "It's…bigger on the inside…than…the outside…God damn it," a sort of ragged sigh of frustration.

"Oh, darling! Just think—wouldn't it be wonderful if this was the control centre for some sort of alien spaceship!" the thief exclaimed suddenly, stars shining in his eyes as he flourished his arms dramatically.

"Don't be an idiot," Klaus growled. But he was still too stunned to properly yell at the Earl, and in all honesty he hadn't the slightest notion _what _they had gotten themselves into, either. Suddenly, everything the Chief had told him about the mysterious mission and the 'Doctor' came swimming back into his head.

"Hmmm…" Dorian began thoughtfully, running his long slender thieves' fingers across the machinery apparatus. "What do you suppose this is all for? I say, they ought to clean it up a little. And it's so dreadfully plain along these walls…I mean with all this room you think they could hang up a painting or _something_. Although, the coral-effect is quite nice. Very…organic looking."

"Don't be an idiot," the Major growled for the fourth or fifth time that day, "this is obviously some sort of military…contraption. Not a plaything!" the Major frowned sternly, joining Dorian at the control panel, he began peering in and around the various objects and screens, studying the array of cables and wires and prodding bits of the apparatus.

"I should have known _you _would like it," the thief sighed, "Machine Maniac…" he said it affectionately, even as the Major growled disapprovingly at him. "Ah well. Hey, I wonder what this does?" the thief asked, flicking a random switch.

"You idiot!" Klaus shouted. "Don't touch anything! Knowing you're luck with machines, you'll wind up killing us both!"

The thief was about to object, that surely Klaus was overreacting just a little, when the entire room began to vibrate. The walls trembled and shook, and the floor lurched up wildly beneath them, causing Dorian to fall off his feet and land on the cold metal floor with a loud and rather undignified crash. He heard Klaus stumble and grope for something to hold onto above him and thought: _hm. Maybe I _shouldn't _have touched it._

In a moment, the violent tremors came to a halt and the machine became completely still and quiet once again. "What…was that?" Dorian asked, rubbing his head a little as he sat up. "Probably messed up my hair…"

The Major was staring at everything with a sort of dazed expression. "I've had enough of this…idiocy…" he growled, storming back towards the door.

"But the—"

"I don't care! I'm not staying in this—this—_THIS_!" with a final angry shout, the Major flung open the wooden door, and stopped. Closed the door. Turned around. Walked back to where Dorian was sitting on the floor, and shakily lit a cigarette.

Dorian had never, in his life, seen the Major 'shakily light a cigarette.' He had never seen the Major pale faced and well, as _disturbed _as he looked just then. "Major…?" he asked quietly. "Darling?"

Klaus didn't yell at him. Klaus didn't even appear to _hear _him. Something was definitely wrong. Dorian glanced at the door hesitantly, then got up and crossed the control room, moved down a little ramp he hadn't noticed on the way in, turned back one last time to see the Major staring into space, smoking with a very glazed expression on his face, shrugged, and opened the door.

It was not night-time.

That was the first thing he noticed as sunlight momentarily blinded him. Then, blinking, Eroica noted, it was not Russia, either. Thick twisting grass rolled out beneath the wooden box for miles, slithering in the slight wind like emerald eels. Enormous trees spiralled up in twisting masses all around him, their leaves impossibly huge, thick vines and giant glistening flowers hanging from them in thick matted entanglements. They seemed to be in the midst of some tropical jungle.

Dorian stared at the scenery with wide eyes, then gripped the corners of the wooden doorframe tightly as the ground began to tremble. He heard the inhuman screeches of something like birds that took flight in thick black clouds from the distant treetops, and then he saw the trees themselves begin to tremble and rustle, as the shaking grew stronger, until the Earl felt his knees turn to water and had to grip the blue doorway just to remain standing.

The Earl of Gloria knew just enough about dinosaurs to know that the fact that a tyrannosaurus rex was looming above him was probably not a good thing. The beast towered fifteen feet above the small wooden police box, its head was easily twice the length of Dorian's body, and it tilted to one side for a second, staring down at the blue box with one large red eye. A hot gust of breath flared through one giant nostril before it turned back, rearing its long muscular neck, and opening its massive jaws to reveal rows of jagged white teeth.

**To be continued in Episode 03: Anywhere But Home**


	3. Episode 03: Anywhere But Home

**Episode 03: Anywhere But Home**

The dinosaur towered over Eroica. The Earl stared up at it with wide eyes, his legs felt like water so he was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to run from it even if he knew where to run _to_. "Hm," he swallowed. "And to think, I always wanted one of these when I was a boy."

He hadn't heard Klaus come up behind him, but stared with wide eyes as the great gaping jaws began to drop down towards him, only to feel himself be suddenly jerked backwards and forcibly thrown to the floor of the police box. The Major, not knowing what else to do, slammed the wooden door shut, expecting at any moment for the wood to be blown to splinters as a giant reptile snout burst through. It didn't happen.

"Uh…thanks…" Dorian managed shakily, for the moment unable to get up off the floor.

Klaus glared at him. "I am _not_ letting you die until you fix whatever the hell you did."

"What_ I _did? Don't blame that thing on _me_!" Eroica squeaked, pointing a shaky finger at the doorway.

"You're the one who hit that switch!"

"How was I supposed to know THIS is what would happen? You know I'm not very mechanically minded, I don't exactly know a time-machine when I see it!"

"It's not a time machine! That's—that's impossible!"

"Then what is it!"

"It—we—we have to be hallucinating…" Klaus muttered, taking a deep drag off his cigarette and turning to look at one of the thin television screens set up along the control centre. It showed the tyrannosaurus rex outside butting its head angrily against the small wooden door to no avail. "Hallucinating…the KGB must have drugged us with something…_ja_…"

"I guess we can just try hitting random switches until we get back…" the Earl said thoughtfully, choosing to ignore the Major's muttering, which had quickly turned into German so he soon found he couldn't follow it anyways. "Oh well," the thief shrugged, and pulled one of the random cranks poking out from the control station.

Afterall, what was the worst that could happen?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Rose caught her breath shakily, leaning for support against a hard stone wall. She and the Doctor had successfully escaped the KGB _and _the androids—robots—the Cybermen that were not Cybermen—whatever they were. At least, for the moment, and her heart was still hammering from the race. She could still hear the crack of bullet shrapnel exploding behind her, though it was only in her head.

It was hardly the first time she had found herself running for her life in the Doctor's company, and she highly doubted it would be the last.

"What are you laughing about?" the Doctor asked, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Nothing, nothing," she smiled, wiping a tear out of the corner of her eye. "So, have you figured out what those guys chasing us are yet?"

"Nope," he replied.

"Or who might have sent them?"

"Not a clue," he grinned, the familiar twinkle in his eyes that signalled his infectious love for adventure.

She just laughed. "Fat lot of good you are, then!"

He laughed in response, reached forwards and grasped her hand in that almost careless, friendly way that made her heart jump and her blood burn in her veins. She locked her fingers securely around his and followed him through the narrow dark alleyway, the robot dog skidding by at their feet.

"Still, this beats sitting around all day eating chips and watching the telly," she grinned. "I can't wait to see what's in store for us this time around!"

"That's the spirit, Rose Tyler! Now, let's go find our friends and get my Sonic Screwdriverback."

"So did that guy steal it?" she asked, choking back a laugh. "And you're not mad at all, then?" she shook her head a little in disbelief.

He shrugged. "We'll meet up with them again, Rose. We have to. I mean, the four of us have to do something important enough for this villain to want to kill us all, don't we?"

"But don't you already know what's going to happen?" she asked. "I mean, here you are—a _Time Lord_—traversing back and forth through time and all across the galaxy, I mean you've seen the earth end—"

"So have you," he pointed out.

"—why don't you already know what's going to happen?"

He laughed. "Well, what would be the fun in living if I _knew _what was going to happen, Rose? This is what I live for—the adventure, the excitement—to watch history happen without always knowing how it's going to turn out. Come on, don't pretend you don't like it too!"

She shook her head, laughing. "You're crazy," she said affectionately. "Just crazy. But you're right," she squeezed his hand quickly. "I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Looking over at him in the dim light of the night-cloaked alley, she could just make out the glittering of his eyes, the flash of his ever-present grin. Yes, he was always smiling, but actually, she thought, feeling a familiar shiver run down her spine, he was the most serious person she had ever known.

He was the last survivor of his race, and there were times when he shed his mask of youthful exuberance and boundless enthusiasm, and dark shadows passed over his eyes—when he talked about his past, or rather when she pressed him for information about his past and he refused to talk about it, or when the situation became gravely serious and people depended on him—then he took on a serious, even commanding demeanour, all pretences dropped, and he ceased to be her easy-going, adventurous friend, and became the nine-hundred year old soul-survivor of his race.

She must have made some sort of sound, because he stopped walking and turned so that he was standing directly in front of her, inches from her, looking down at her with concern swimming in his eyes. "Rose, what's the matter? You've gotten all…quiet."

"Wh—what?" she asked, forcing a laugh. "I was just thinking, you know."

He gave her a questioning look.

"About you…" she avoided looking at him, gesturing vaguely as though trying to fish answers out of the surrounding darkness. The cool night air, which was quickly becoming quite cold, bit into her naked hands, and she shivered.

"Rose, I told you before, I am…this is me now, here and now, that's all that matters."

"I know. I…I don't want anything to change," she whispered suddenly, unable to stop herself from saying it, not even sure _why _she had said it. But it was the truth, and there were tears pricking in the corners of her eyes before she could reason why they were there either, and she felt embarrassed that he could see them, glinting silver in the dark.

"I want us to be…" _Together? _Except that could be taken too many ways, too many ways it _couldn't _be taken. She was his companion, his ally—his friend. "I want to be here for you."

"You are," he said firmly, and for one split-second, his eyes had the dark, gravely serious look to them, and she swallowed. Any other person would have felt daunted under the heaviness of that expression, she felt secure by it—safe. But anywhere with the Doctor was safe, even running through the back alleys of Russia, in the freezing cold, in the middle of the night, with armed men and cyborgs chasing them and the TARDIS no where in sight…

"The TARDIS!" she exclaimed suddenly, looking around for the familiar blue box. "Isn't this right where we left it?"

He broke away from her in an instant, sweeping around the area in a circle, looking absolutely horrified. "My TARDIS! My fabulous time ship! Is this where we left it?"

"Yes, remember, those are the trashcans that knocked over when it appeared, and…what could have happened to it?"

"Oh_ no_…" the Doctor said suddenly, feeling the pockets of his treasured leather jacket once again. "Oh no!"

"What?"

"The Sonic Screwdriver wasn't the only thing I had in my jacket pocket! The—my TARDIS' key!"

Rose stared at him, eyes widening as she realized what he was saying. "You mean those two—the blond and that German bloke are—"

"Two HUMANS are mucking around in my time-ship!" the Doctor cried. "Little apes, BARELY able to function as a civilization, babies that haven't even left the womb—with no knowledge of time and space and the magnitude of the universe—are MUCKING AROUND IN MY FABULOUS TARDIS!"

It was more than a little harsh to hear her entire race described and berated as such, and Rose was more than a little annoyed by it. "Oh come on, Doctor, we humans aren't that bad."

"You couldn't handle seeing the things that are out there!" the Doctor replied indignantly.

"What do you mean?" Rose demanded. "I've seen—"

"Not_ you,_" the Doctor sighed. "But you're _different_, Rose."

She stared at him and he continued, not looking at her, still pacing around, obviously agitated by the TARDIS' absence. "You're compassionate and brave and strong, you don't run away screaming when we're confronted by zombies or aliens. You saw through the Nestene Consciousness' plan just like that," he snapped his fingers emphatically, "You…" he paused suddenly, as though just realizing what he was saying, and looked at her, his eyes clearly showing surprise, as though he had been saying things he had never meant to voice.

The situation could have been awkward, but was saved by the sudden surge of frigid northern wind that burst over them and the familiar low vibrating hum that signalled the TARDIS' arrival. Rose stared over the Doctor's shoulder, and he turned around in time to watch the rickety old police box shudder and fade and slowly appear, solid and real, in the alley before them.

Rose had barely gotten over her shock (it was always a bit of a shock, no matter how many times she saw it, to watch the thing just _appear_ like that) when the Doctor had already flung himself at the wooden doors and was pounding on them and shouting. "Hey, in there! Get out of my ship!" He banged on the door loudly, knowing it was useless, after all he himself had told her that all the armies of Genghis Khan had tried and failed to break through that seemingly-wooden door.

But a moment later, the blue door creaked hesitantly open, and a pale and shaken-looking blond man stumbled out, his long golden curls tumbling over his face in a dishevelled order until he quickly straightened himself out and pushed the unruly locks back. "That's um…quite the…police box you have there," he said, smiling a little shakily. "I might have even been tempted to steal it if I wasn't so _dreadful_ with machines."

"Alright, you've had your fun, now you and your friend get out of my TARDIS," the Doctor said, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that made him look more like a petulant child than a commanding Time Lord.

And Rose almost commented on that, except that the deafening crack of a gun shot exploding behind them jolted through her bones and this time she _knew _it was not just in her imagination. The KGB and their non-to-friendly droids had caught up with them. At their feet, K-9 was beeping a loud warning.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, whipping her neck around so long blonde hair flew past her face, but it was no good, she couldn't see anything in the ally. "Get in the TARDIS, we can argue about this later!"

"But—" the Doctor began to object, and she could _swear_ he was pouting.

"Get IN!" she exclaimed, shoving both Time Lord and blond thief into the police box and slamming the door after them as several more gunshots exploded in the distance.

Once safely in the TARDIS, Rose leaned back against the closed door and sighed deeply. "That was too close," she murmured.

"Come on, you call _that _too close?" the Doctor asked. "What about the time you were an inch away from being fried in the direct heat of the sun and I couldn't get the door to the observation deck open?"

Not exactly sure how she was supposed to take that comment, Rose decided to turn her attention to their two new guests. If what the Doctor had said about the four of them being friends was right, then she would probably be seeing a lot more of them, she decided. And then, as the Doctor moved to the control panel and began flicking a random assortment of switches, it hit her. They would be joining them, then? These two would be companions to the Doctor. It wouldn't just be _her_ anymore, his only friend, his only companion in a lonely existence. She would no longer be _special _or _different_. Not to him.

It should not have stung as much as it did. She told herself that she was being selfish and jealous for absolutely no reason. She clenched her hands and forced her eyes to stare down at K-9, trying to concentrate on something other than the unpleasant feelings knotting in her chest. The image of the blond draping himself all over the Doctor during their escape from the KGB resurfaced in her mind, and she forced herself to look back at the two men and really _look _at them, now that they were out of mortal danger.

The blond was attractive, no question. He looked like a movie star or a rock singer or something, with a beautiful face, but a well toned chest, long limbs and tumbling golden locks of hair that reached his waist in a shower of gold. He held himself with a certain confident, easy attitude as well, and a poise that seemed to silently scream rich and elite. But at the same time, he _did _have a kind, sweet sort of face, even she had to admit that, he looked friendly, nice, in fact she might have found him attractive if she wasn't already so…

_Okay, not thinking about that._

And besides, it was fairly obvious where the blond's preferences lay. Again, the scene from their escape. It must have been when the thief had picked the Doctor's pockets, but still, she couldn't help the little flare of anger it caused to boil deep inside of her, as shameless as that was. After all, the Doctor wasn't 'hers' she was his _companion_ and every time anybody had even casually asked if they were more than friends he had always very fervently answered 'NO!' But then, the Doctor didn't seem to think about humans that way, after all, she had to remind herself, even if he looked like an ordinary man,he wasn't. He was an alien.

_"You look beautiful!" he had gasped, seeing her in Victorian dress. Then paused and added, "...Considering."_

_"Considering what?"_

_"Considering you're human!" _

While she was lost in her reverie, Doctor had finished with whatever adjustments he could to the ship, and came back to them, rubbing his hands together, his face alight with the childish energy and enthusiasm she found so endearing. "Alright then, let's introduce ourselves, shall we? We were sort of rushed before. I'm the Doctor."

The dark-haired man, who had been standing silently in the background since Rose and the Doctor had entered the TARDIS, shook his head at this, and walked over to them, boots falling loudly against the TARDIS' floor with the distinctive efficient stride of a military officer. "What is your _name_?" he demanded.

This man was just as attractive as the blond, Rose decided at once, now that she had gotten a proper look at him. He was tall, broad shouldered and obviously strong, the straight lines of his staunch NATO uniform only serving to heighten the dramatic sense of power and poise the man exuded. His face was handsome, even clouded with anger it held the look that one might find in the painting of an armoured knight or a statue of a Greek warrior, calm and determined and powerful. His eyes were a blazing military green, and his long raven-black hair fell over his shoulders in a dramatic sort of way. Yes, he was definitely very striking and handsome.

_Oh well, _Rose thought, _if I'm going to be stuck with them, at least they're easy on the eyes._

"What is your name?" the officer repeated, eyes narrowed, his whole bearing that of a predatory animal.

_God, he is even sexier than James Bond_, Rose thought. _A lot sexier._

"Just the Doctor," the Doctor repeated with his usual easy amiability, smiling away as always.

"And what are you a doctor _of_, exactly?" the German asked dryly.

"Oh, just about everything," the Doctor answered easily.

The officer looked ready to kill someone.

"I'm Rose Tyler," she put in, before they could start going in circles.

"Dorian Red Gloria," the blond said, nodding to her in a movement that somehow seemed to encompass all the grace and flourish of a regal bow. "The Earl of Gloria, at your service."

"So you _are_ some spoiled aristocrat," Rose said, the words flying out of her mouth before she thought about them.

To her surprise, he just laughed. "I'm also known as Eroica, art thief extraordinaire," he told her, this time he did bow, a full-blown theatrical performance.

"WHY did you just tell them your name AND your criminal alias?" the dark-haired officer thundered at him suddenly, "Even YOU aren't that much of an idiot, you idiot!"

"Come on, we can trust each other," the Doctor said. "After all, we're in this together, aren't we? And you're Major Eberbach, aren't you? As they say in those twenty-third century legends?"

The Major gave the Doctor a look that was part withering contempt and part genuine confusion. Finally he appeared to relent and sighed. "Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach, of NATO." He said, grudgingly.

"_And _he's the head of the family related to the German branch of the Hapsburgs, so I'm not the _only _blueblood, you know." Dorian added enthusiastically. The Major gave him a look that said pure murder and was obviously on the verge of gathering enough air into his lungs to really shout at the Englishman, and all Rose could think was _great, just bloody great. _

The Doctor continued on, seemingly oblivious to all this. "It's been a while since I was back on Earth. I mean, before I met Rose."

"Since you've been on…?" Dorian repeated thoughtfully. "So you AREan alien! You're the one the men at NATO wanted us to find information on—the alien!"

The Doctor smiled pleasantly and nodded. He seemed quite flattered, actually. "Yes, that's right. Although, you know that was just part of a trap. I'm fairly certain NATO already has me on file. At least UNIT does, I've worked with them a lot in the past."

"Why, that's magnificent!" the Earl continued enthusiastically. "I mean, here you are—a real live alien!" If this was a rude thing to repeatedly exclaim, it was smothered with so much childlike enthusiasm and natural charm that it went unnoticed. "And then this must be…your…your _space ship_! Why that's _brilliant!_"

"Don't say such idiot things!" the Major snapped angrily, clearly a little put-off by the fact that he hadn't had a chance to yell at the thief yet for the remark about his family.

"It's actually called a TARDIS," the Doctor explained, grinning from ear to ear. "And she's not just a space ship, 's a time machine, too."

"We got that, yeah," Klaus muttered darkly.

"Tar…dis?" Dorian repeated.

"Yep," the Doctor nodded, still beaming at them. "That's T-A-R-D-I-S: 'Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.'"

"Uh-Huh…" the Earl nodded, although he didn't seem to understand much, thoughtfully resting his fingers along his chin and surveying their surroundings once again.

"The TARDIS is dimensionally transcendental," the Doctor continued, following the blond's gaze.

"Oooh!" Dorian exclaimed appreciatively.

"Do you even know what that means?" Klaus snapped.

The thief blinked at him, "Why no, darling. But it sounds _awfully_ impressive."

The NATO officer looked ready to throttle the thief, so Rose decided to intervene. With a determined shake of her head, the blonde young woman marched in between them, "It _means _the TARDIS is bigger on the inside than the out."

"Well we _already _figured that one out, you know," Dorian said, craning his neck to peer around them once again. "You know, you really _should _do something with the décor. Some paintings, a statue over there, perhaps…a couple of nice oriental rugs, that sort of thing…"

"Not this again!" Klaus groaned, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

The Doctor was, in the mean time, following the Earl's gaze and fluttery gestures around the control room as though actually considering it. Rose decided to put a stop to that. "Enough! The TARDIS is fine just the way it is! It's a spaceship…time machine…police box…thing…not a bloody hotel lobby!"

The aristocrat pouted and looked quite annoyed by her interference, whereas the Doctor merely shrugged amicably and went back to jabbing buttons and flicking switches around the control station as though he had forgotten them all already.

"Well then, where would you like to go?" the Doctor asked, looking up after a moment.

"Where..?" Dorian repeated.

"I can take you anywhere in the universe. _Anywhen_, too."

TheE arl's entire face lit up, the large blue eyes sparkling delightedly. "Wow…this is so amazing! I can't believe it. It's incredible!"

The Doctor smiled, and Rose could swear he looked downright _smug_.

"Wait," Klaus sighed tiredly. "We can't…this isn't…"

"You_ can't _go back to your own time," the Doctor said after a moment, his sparkling eyes suddenly growing darker with pained shadows.

"Whyever not?" Dorian asked.

"Well, there's the whole matter of the man who is trying to kill us," the Doctor explained pleasantly, running around the control centre, flicking a few more switches and twisting a crank.

"That's not our problem," Major Eberbach snarled. "We _need _to go back."

"Oh, but it _is_ your problem, Major. You see, when I said 'us' I meant all four of us. I don't think I need to remind you about the trap that was set upto use the KGB to take care of you."

"So this person is controlling the KGB?" Klaus asked.

"Oh yes, it shouldn't be difficult for _him_, not difficult at all. You see, he was the one responsible for your 'mission' as well. He must have gotten to your superiors."

"Who is this man?"

"I'm not sure," the Doctor admitted truthfully. "I mean, it all gets rather confusing, jumping around in time like this. But I…if you want to know what my best guess is, then I suspect he is another Time Lord."

"Another_ what_?"

"A Time Lord, like me. You wanted to know who I really am, Major? The truth is, I'm an alien from the planet Gallifrey, a planet which no longer exists, mind you. It was destroyed in a war, called the Time War. For a long time I thought I was the only survivor of that war, but evidently I was wrong. And sadly, it doesn't seem like this other survivor is a very agreeable fellow, does it? In my time I've known a lot of good Time Lords, but this one, evidently, wants to kill us all. Which I'm fairly certain means he's of the evil lot."

"So why does he want to kill us, exactly?" Dorian asked, sitting along the counter of the control centre and pulling on knee up to his chin, hugging himself tightly.

"I imagine we try to interfere with his plans."

"Plans?"

"Oh you know, to take over the universe, that's what they always seem to want. Heaven knows _why_, I mean it's not as though they'd know what to do with it once they've conquered it all." The Doctor gave slight shrug, vaulting over the metal railing and landing down by a convoluted mess of wires that he began tinkering with.

"This is ridiculous," the Major breathed. "Just…ridiculous."

"So we can't go…home…" Dorian said slowly.

"Not until this is all over, it probably wouldn't be wise," the Doctor agreed. "For whatever reason, this Time Lord doesn't seem to like you very much."

"So what do we do? Fight him?" Dorian asked. "Find his intergalactic hide-out and blow it to smithereens?"

"Oh I imagine he'll come to find us sooner or later, they always seem to," the Doctor said quite amicably, as though they were discussing a cricket match. "Oh, and could I have my Sonic Screwdriver and Slightly Psychic Paper back, if it's not too much trouble?"

"What?" Dorian asked, startled at the abrupt turn in the conversation. After a moment of fishing through his pocket, he pulled out the items he had taken earlier. "You mean these things?"

"Yes, that's right," the Doctor smiled, swinging back up over the railing and snatching up the 'screwdriver' and paper.

"How's the paper 'psychic?'" the thief asked, arching on golden eyebrow.

"Shows people what they want to see, useful little thing for bluffing one's way into private parties and the like." Dorian watched with interest, clearly thinking how useful having his own slightly-psychic paper would be. "Oh, and you can keep the key, I have spares."

"Uh…thanks…"

"Rose, you've been uncharacteristically quiet," the Doctor said, suddenly turning to his young companion. "Something the matter?"

_Not besides the fact that you just told these two strangers more in the last fifteen minutes then you told me in all the time I've been travelling with you, risking my life with you. I ASKED you for information and you never even told me the name of the planet your were from. But for them…_But she couldn't say that, so she didn't say anything at all, although she felt the Earl's eyes watching her for a moment.

"Are you an alien too?" Eroica asked finally, looking her over quizzically.

"NO!" she snapped. "I'm a NORMAL human girl, not that I suppose _you _would know!" it came out sounding even more bitter and unfair than she had intended,and she felt heat rise to her face at the rudeness of what she had just said. She was a nineteen year old woman, for God's sake, she told herself, she shouldn't be getting so upset just because she was a little jealous.

The silence that had descended in the TARDIS was quickly growing uncomfortable, even for the Doctor it seemed, who quickly piped up with, "She's from the year 2005, though!"

"Really…so…" Dorian attempted to breach conversation since Klaus obviously wasn't going to and he hated the frigid silence. "…how does the Cold War turn out?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"So, just how did the TARDIS come back to the right time and place for us?" Klaus overheard Rose asking the Doctor sometime later, after they had all more-or-less 'settled in.'

"Oh, well she would definitely come back for us," the Doctor said, regarding his ship affectionately. "She's really more…more than just a machine. Can't quite explain, we've had a bit of a psychic bond, you know. And even with all the trouble she's given me in the past, she'd never abandon me like that."

Great. So it wasn't _just_ a police box that was a space-ship on the inside, it was a police box that was a space-ship on the inside that was _emotional_.

_Gott._

Klaus rubbed his eyelids, he felt tired suddenly, drained. What the hell was going on? He couldn't quite come to terms with everything he had learned over the past few hours, and to think that they were hurdling through time and space and dimensions inside of a wooden box…he really wasn't sure how he was managing it at all. To stand there, without killing them and storming out of the box and convincing himself that it was all a complex hallucination and trick based on the effects of some drug the KGB had slipped him.

But then he did know. He would make it through the ordeal, no matter how…inane…because he _was_ Iron Klaus and he was a survivor and whatever the truth was he would just have to come to terms with it and persevere. Because that's just what he did.

"What are you thinking?" the familiar golden voice interrupted his brooding. Eroica was draped around one of the twisting coral-like supports of the control room, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's really something, isn't it? I mean this, here?"

"Do you never stop talking?" Klaus sighed.

"Come on, darling, I haven't been bothering you in a while. I just had a very interesting conversation with that Doctor chap. He met Michelangelo _and _Shakespeare _and _Leonardo Da Vinci _and_— just think!" a rather dreamy, wistful sigh.

"I'm glad _you're _enjoying yourself," the Major snarled, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Meanwhile, NATO's probably proclaimed us missing or dead, and who knows what the KGB are doing…"

"Must you always think about work?" the thief sighed, brushing back a wave of golden curls that tumbled over his face, thick golden bracelets jangling together in sharp contrast with the sleek black burglar suit he was wearing.

Alright. Since _when_ had he started to notice what the degenerate was wearing? Klaus sighed again, and reached for another cigarette.

"Alright, here we are!" the Doctor's voice proclaimed happily, and the man—alien—looked up from the control station, as the TARDIS came to one last shaky halt.

"Where?" Rose asked, regarding the door hesitantly.

"Venus. Well, one of the moons, actually. 5,000 years from your time, give or take. There's a lovely resort, if I remember correctly. We can rest up for a bit."

Dorian followed them out of the ship, turning back once to look at Klaus. "Aren't you coming…?" he asked.

Klaus felt the frown deepening on his face. To go out there. To admit that…all of these impossible things were somehow happening….

"Major?"

He blew a thick cloud of cigarette smoke into the air before sighing again, he'd been doing too much of that lately, and heading after the thief.

They stepped outside into a hot orange sunlight, the sky stretched above in a thick sea of orange tinged with clouds that were wisps of rose burning down into a deep, smouldering crimson along the horizon. They found themselves indeed, in the middle of an elaborate sort of palace with sloping golden walls, winding towers and large arching domes all covered in vines with sweet smelling white flowers that made the Major cringe a little, but he supposed would be enthusiastically appreciated by the thief.

"Looks like I made a mistake," the Doctor said, walking back towards them as attendants came to move the TARDIS, attendants that looked human but had skin that was ever-so-lightly tinged with violet and silver-blue hair, all dressed in flowing white robes and what looked like gold. "This isn't anywhere _near_ Venus, not even the same galaxy, and the year…"

"I don't care," Dorian breathed, taking in the scenery with wide eyes. "It's…beautiful…incredible!"

The Doctor grinned. "Glad you like it. We could have rested in the TARDIS, but it's more comfortable here, it'll give us a chance to catch our bearings. Come on, I've gotten us rooms with a view of the ocean."

It was some time later that Klaus found himself standing on a balcony looking out over a massive stretch of sparkling ruby-coloured waters that shone like the fractured light of gems and rolled beneath them and around them to the end of sight in all directions, merging with the rose-red sky along the horizon. The wind was hot and tasted definitely sweet. Sweeter than air on Earth. So he was finally admitting it, he realized, he was not on Earth, there was more to the universe than he had thought.

And that meant that everything was different. He had thought he understood the universe, at least in principle, and he had been wrong. He had been wrong about the concept of what it was to _exist_…

And maybe that was why he had allowed Dorian to drag him out to the terrace and show him the view from the balcony. The Earl was certainly enjoying it, Klaus noted wearily, indeed the thief didn't seem the least bit tired for all they had been through, for all they had seen and heard. Eroica was absorbing it all with the wonder and excitement of a child, completely willing to accept everything just as it was shown to him, no matter how bizarre and…well…impossible it got. The Earl was stretched over the balcony's railing, drinking in the hot golds and crimsons of the alien ocean, the alien sky. And the hot golden light bathing his creamy skin and lustrous curls looked…well, it looked…

Klaus ground his cigarette under his heel and marched back inside, slamming the door to the balcony with more than a little force.

He was met with the Doctor's gaze almost immediately as the man barged into their room, an excited look on his face. "I've got it! We're on Luinway and these people are the Meren. And you'll never believe what just happened—I was just chatting with the manager of this place and he told me that their Solar Crystal was stolen last month."

"What's that?" Dorian asked, coming in from the balcony.

"The Solar Crystal is this sort of diamond that powers this entire world. Without it they can last for a little while on reserve power, but soon the atmosphere will fade away and they'll all die." The Doctor still looked remarkably excited.

"But that's dreadful!" Dorian exclaimed.

"But that's just what I mean, we'll have to get the Solar Crystal back for them! And since it was stolen in the first place, I see no reason why we can't steal it back." The Doctor explained.

"Of course!" Dorian exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face. "That is, after all, my specialty!"

**To be Continued in Episode 04: The Diamond that Wouldn't Stay Stolen Part I**


	4. Episode 04: The Diamond that Wouldn't St...

**Episode 04: The Diamond that Wouldn't Stay Stolen Part I**

Everyone hates you.

Everyone is just _waiting _for a reason to hate you.

That was the earliest conscious thought Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach could remember thinking—_learning_, feeling, _knowing_—though he could not remember what, if anything, had led him to arrive at that conclusion.

Perhaps it was something he just knew naturally, instinctively. From the disdained and quietly annoyed looks of unspoken exasperation on his tutors' faces, the frigid aloofness of the other boys at school, the sneer of expected-disappointment in his father's eyes, and even the submissive-terror of his agents and underlings.

It was like…

He could not remember a specific moment when he stopped believing in such whimsical things as God and angels and miracles and love. It was just _there_, this lack of feeling, whatever it was he was supposed to feel, whatever everyone _else_ seemed to feel naturally, surrounded by church patrons and the congregation at mass on Sundays, standing in the great gleaming church with its towering arches of stained glass, rays of hot morning light filtering in shafts of pure gold.

He could remember _thinking_, and at a remarkably early age, that it was very_ convenient _for them all to have someone, in this case, 'God' looking out for them, someone who 'cared' about them, someone who was always watching out for them. Someone who cared.

Someone who loved.

It would have been a sort of comforting thought, he supposed, hypothetically, and that was why the masses indulged in it—his father, his aunts and uncles, strangers he did not know but seemed to be somehow or another connected to the Eberbach family—but this reasoning did nothing to change the fact that_ he_ never felt it.

All that he _felt_ standing in that vacuum, the deep baritone of the priest rolling over him, the murmur of bodies shifting with every slightest breath all around him, the light filtering in through coloured windows and washing the smooth surfaces of the oak pews and the deep burgundy carpet, was a sort of painful acuteness of his surroundings, and the universe, and how empty and black and hollow it all was. He could not feel the 'love' of any higher being above him. He could not feel whatever it was that caused the warm rosy sparkle to dance in the eyes of those who had their faith. He felt uncomfortable and awkward to the extent that it was physically painful to be in the same room with the rest of the congregation. He felt a gaping black hole tearing up above and drowning everything and meaning nothing. Nothing.

Where everyone else seemed to look up and see light and happiness, Klaus had felt only despair. It had been quiet, of course, internal and unnamed. But that's what it had been.

And then nothing.

He slowly became numb to these feelings, these emotions. And there was a sort of comfort in that. And then he could appreciate at least the quiet of the church. There _was _a sort of empty peace to it. A sort of calmness, but it was an empty calm. It was the calm of not killing, not being shot at, not yelling at his agents or listening to his father berate him.

But there was no God, no angel, no miracle. No love.

"Why do you get so angry when I look at you?" said the annoying thief, tearing his eyes away from the unearthly orange-gold glow of the alien sunset long enough to ask Klaus the question, serious, albeit out of nowhere. "I mean, in a way, you get more upset then when I act…well, to use your own term 'perverted.'"

"'Why?'" he flung his cigarette to the posh balcony floor and ground it out under the heel of his boot. "You know I hate that…look you have in your eyes."

"It's called love, darling."

"There is no such thing."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dorian stared at Klaus blankly for a moment or two, before the Major turned and went back into the alien palace. Sure, it wasn't a particularly _un_-Klaus-ish thing to say, but the way the Major had said it had been so…quiet. Reserved and almost _weary_. It lacked the heated fire his darling German usually possessed. It lacked the anger and the simmering withheld torrent of emotion. The familiar fiery gleam, determined for argument, had not flared in the sea-green eyes then. It had simply been a tired man stating a weary fact.

And for some reason _that_ hurt Dorian more than if his beloved Major had just punched him and swore at him to stop being such a foppish idiot. Turning back to the truly fabulous alien sunset, the Englishman sighed.

Only to be distracted by a sharp nudge against the back of his knee. Looking down, he saw the small robotic dog, K-9, it's red eye-band beeping in a way that might have suggested urgency.

"What is it…err, boy?" Dorian asked, dropping down to one knee beside the mechanical animal. He regarded the robot for a minute, thinking, it really _was_ a darling little thing, the dog.

"The Doctor and Rose Tyler are in trouble, Master," K-9 said, spinning around and pointing it's metal snout back towards the alien palace. "They went after more information on the Solar-Crystal thief and…"

"Oh great," Dorian sighed, standing back up. "Major?" he looked around, but Klaus had abruptly vanished from sight. "This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"I believe your logic is flawed, Master."

"Shut up, K-9."

All things considered, it did not take long for the little robot dog to lead Dorian to where the Doctor and Rose were, indeed, affixed into rather dire straits. They were just inside the Meren palace, in fact, down a long swirling staircase (Dorian was obliged to carry K-9 down the stairs) that ended in a rather shadowy looking pub—a stark contrast to the polished golden appearance of the upper floors. It was a small dark room with old tables made of splintered wood, or some alien equivalent of wood, with a bar in the distant background. A large clanking chandelier made of twisted black steel that was not at all aesthetic dangled precariously from the low ceiling.

The Doctor and his young companion were seated at a small wooden table, sitting across from them was a large grotesque man. The stranger looked nearly human except for the fact that he was eight feet tall and his skin had the odd purplish tinge of the Meren. He had a hideously deep gash of a scar disfiguring the left side of his face, gouging deep into the socket of what had presumably once been his left eye, and a large overbite gaping with a few oversized, rotten teeth separated by hideous black gaps where the others had fallen out. His enormous corded hands rested on the rickety tabletop, menacing even when immobile.

And_ that_ wasn't even the worst of it! Standing all around the Doctor and Rose towered a dozen of the threatening Meren, unlike the calm, friendly attendants Dorian had seen in the palace, these people looked ready to rip the Doctor limb from limb and drink his blood.

All in all, it was quite unsettling.

"Now what do we do?" the thief whispered to the robot he had hoisted in his arms. The two remained concealed by shadows along the staircase, a few steps from the ground. "This doesn't look good."

"I believe the aesthetics of the situation at hand are quite irrelevant, Master."

Okay, Dorian looked at the robot mutt, he could _swear_ it was doing that on purpose.

"Listen…'Doctor'…" the large, slovenly Meren began in a voice like grating steel. "…you and your little friend poke your noses in where they don't belong…and you're gonna get them cut off!" it spoke in a slow, lumbering way, breathing heavily as though strained.

"So, what you're saying is, this Ristead fellow _did _steal the Solar Crystal of Luinway?" the Doctor asked with his usual, chipper personality. "Or at least hired someone else to steal it. You, perhaps, my large ugly friend?"

Rose looked around nervously at the advancing aliens, with a concerned expression, not exactly fear, no where near panic, but definitely _concerned._ "Uh, Doctor, are you _sure _you want to be making these guys angry?"

Dorian felt a frown tugging at his lips. If he were Klaus, he would storm down there, knocking aliens to the left and right, shooting the seedy little pub until it was blasted beyond recognition. But if he were Klaus, then he would be able to fire a .44 Magnum with one hand, and he'd be able to…hit the broad side of a barn…he thought, grimacing at the reminder of his own—and one could only honestly describe it as _lousy_—skill with guns.

Alright, he couldn't do whatever amazing thing Iron Klaus would have done in his place, so he would have to do what _Eroica_, the Prince of Thieves, did best—and that was all stealth and silence and surprise. The Earl carefully lowered the mutt to the ground, more for fear of it causing a loud resonating clank than for fear of K-9's well being, and slipped lower into the shadows.

Meanwhile, Rose and the Doctor continued to argue with the menacing enemies. "So, and let me get this straight now, Ristead stole the Meren's power source, leaving you all here on Luinway to die a horrible, horrible death, and you're protecting him because…? Oh right, he's rich. I almost forgot. So how much did it take to sell out your planet? Your people? Your history? Your _families_?"

"That's enough out of you!" the hulk thundered, raising a fist to slam into the Doctor's jaw. At that moment, the Doctor brought his arm up, effectively blocking the punch, ducked down and swiftly kicked the Meren backwards, so that the goliath stumbled over Rose's outstretched leg and crashed to the ground with a tremulous bang.

With an angry cacophony of roars, the rest of the gang lunged at the two. Rose leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the crazed lunge of one of the larger Meren, who smashed clean through the table behind her, sending bits of debris scattering across the room.

The Doctor spun around and found himself faced with a tall lanky fellow, who grasped a long sharp knife in one meaty fist. But the Doctor did not hesitate, acting with a speed to take his opponent by surprise, he smashed the alien's jaw with his fist and stole the knife from his enemy's hand.

Dorian took this as his opportunity and, knocking the alien's legs out from under him, leapt up beside the Doctor. "Here, give that to me."

Taking the knife, Eroica effortlessly flung it through the air, and straight into the shoulder of the group's leader, who had been struggling back onto his feet. A look of pure pain and shock flew over the alien's face, and the mouth twisted into a truly vicious snarl.

"You'll pay for that—" he growled, yanking the blood-soaked blade from his own shoulder in one violent movement that sent a thick spray of red splattering across the floor.

"Not so fast," the Doctor said, pulling the Sonic Screwdriver from his jacket pocket. He flicked a small dial and pointed it at the alien. A moment later, a bright flash of light filled the room, and then the Meren slumped unconscious to the ground.

"That's the hyper-amplitude beam-emitter," the Doctor explained, turning to Dorian. "It allows the Screwdriver to function as a mid-power laser tool, but it's not really supposed to be used that way."

"Oh, is that why the bloke is getting back up again?"

"What?" the Doctor turned back to the Meren who was picking himself up off the floor, gripping the bloody knife, his eyes shining with rage and a thick pool of saliva frothing from his cracked and bloodied lips. "Oh shit."

"No kidding," Dorian murmured, backing away with the Doctor as the dangerous alien lumbered towards them.

A minute later a resounding CRACK rang throughout the tavern and the alien slumped to the floor, this time for good, revealing a very triumphant-looking Rose holding a shattered wooden board. She tossed what had once been a piece of table to the side and dusted off her hands, regarding Eroica and the Doctor with a rather bemused expression. "Looks like I save the day yet again, Doctor. What would you do without me, hmm?"

He smiled nervously, "Um, yes, good show, Rose!"

Dorian sighed with relief, picking a few splinters and shards off his clothes. "Thank goodness _that's _over!"

"Uh…I think you spoke to soon," the Doctor replied, and Dorian looked up to see that the three of them had somehow or another become surrounded by a murderous mob. Their enemies groped thick heavy chains and the sheen of the metal of knives glinted in the murky shadows as large clubs and even larger fists were being readied for the encroaching brawl.

Eroica blanched slightly, such bouts were really not his forte, after all. The thief cast a glance quickly over the room to see if he could find something—_anything_—that would give him an advantage—and wondered if Rose and the Doctor even _realized _that they were holding hands—and found hope in the form of the rickety old twisted black steel of the dangling chandelier.

With a terrific guttural yell, the first Meren attacked. Rose jumped back and simultaneously delivered a sharp kick behind the creature's kneecaps and it stumbled for a moment unsteadily, giving Eroica just the opportunity he needed—running up, he jumped onto the Meren's bulky shoulders and, with the grace and agility of an Olympic gymnast, pushed himself into a leap and caught the metal rungs of the chandelier. A moment later, he twisted himself around and pulled himself up. He found he had quite a good view of the ensuing brawl.

The Doctor punched one of their attackers and grasped Rose's hand tightly, pulling her back with him as he picked up a large splintering piece of what might have once been a table leg. "Persistent lot, aren't they?" he asked, swinging the makeshift club hard into someone's skull with a resounding crack.

As Eroica had hoped, a good portion of the Meren had gathered beneath him and his steel chandelier, and were yelling and threatening him and trying to reach him. He watched all of this with some amusement for a moment, stretched out along the steel rungs which was very uncomfortable, and not quite sturdy.

Turning to the rusted metal plug that held the fixture in place he gave it an experimental tug. The entire pendant groaned and shuddered beneath him. "Well, that's interesting."

"Get down here!" an angry voice growled, and Eroica felt a large hairy hand curl around his ankle. Not a good sign.

"You want the chandelier?" he asked, twisting his neck around to grin at his attacker, who was being hoisted up by his friends. "You can HAVE it!"

The resulting crash resonated throughout the entire Luinway palace. The walls, floors and ceilings all seized in one great violent shuddering jolt and a deafening bang rang out as the solid steel contraption exploded against the distant ground in a thick storm of dust and debris.

Alright, so it wasn't the smartest move he had ever made, Dorian thought, lying on his back, momentarily stunned still with a wave of pain and coughing in the thick dust. He had been thrown from the chandelier during the fall and felt the bruises forming on his shoulders and back. And when he squinted his eyes open, he saw the biggest, ugliest of the Meren louts towering over him.

"Uh…….hello?"

The giant had a bloodthirsty glare in his eyes and lifted a hand, clenching a large piece of wood that came to a jagged splintered end in a cruel stake with one obvious intention in mind. Eroica tensed himself, gathered his strength in his bruised limbs to spring away…when a gunshot exploded above him, and the Meren collapsed into a lifeless pile on the floor.

Several more gunshots sounded in crisp succession, each sharp and precise, and followed by the noise of several large bodies falling to the ground. Then the loud military footsteps crossed the floor, and this time Dorian cracked his eyes open to see the Major looking down at him with a strange expression he was unsure where to place. Sort of pale, tightly drawn, almost…concerned.

"My_ hero_!" Eroica gushed, ignoring the splintering pain in his back and neck as he struggled to sit up.

The German's expression instantly transformed into the more familiar scowl of disdain, disgust and disapproval. "_Sheiβe! _You IDIOT! You're ALL bloody worthless idiots! How is it I'm gone for ten minutes and you almost get yourselves killed AGAIN?" This was followed by lengthy stream of German curses, ending in: "…In a God-damn HOTEL!"

Never mind that the hotel was on the other side of the galaxy.

Dorian merely groaned, feeling the bruises on his neck and turned a little to see K-9 trundling along over the various rubble behind Klaus. "AND I had to be told this was going on by this—this—this—" the Major stared at the electric dog for several seconds and then tossed his cigarette to the ground, more cursing, turned on his heel, and stomped off.

Sighing a little wistfully, Dorian picked a bit of slag out of his hair and smiled at the small robot gratefully.

"Good work, K-9," the Doctor said, stepping over bits of chandelier, ceiling and wall. He extended a hand for Dorian and pulled him to his feet. "Don't worry, I can take care of those bruises once we get back to the TARDIS."

"Thanks," Dorian winced. "So what did we learn?"

"We know who stole the Meren's Solar Crystal," the Doctor supplied. "His name is Julius Ristead III."

"I'm not sure I want to get it back for them after _that_,"

The Doctor shrugged indifferently. "Considering how wealthy the man who stole it is, it's no surprise he could convince a few of the Meren to betray their own people."

"So he's a powerful chap, then?"

"Ristead is infamous in this part of the galaxy. The president of an intergalactic business that deals in supplying powerful weapons to warring planets,_ and_ a well-known crime lord with ties to various illegal slavery rings, smuggling, drugs, assassination—the man's got his nose in everything deplorable, really. He lives on a space station orbiting this galaxy's sun."

"A space station?" Dorian repeated.

"An extremely large one guarded by a veritable army of mercenaries," the Doctor nodded.

"So, stealing this diamond back is going to be pretty dangerous, then?" Eroica asked, smiling widely. "A real challenge."

"Sounds like an adventure to me," Rose said, smiling a bit as she stepped up beside the Doctor.

He turned and looked down at her, a smile softly forming on his face, and in her eyes. Dorian raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

He wondered if they knew they were a couple.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Klaus sat in a room in the TARDIS. Yes, there were even separate rooms, joined by hallways upon hallways, that always seemed to be changing their minds about where they led one or which rooms went behind which doors, all concealed in that small blue phone box. The Major shuddered, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and buried his face in his hands for one moment to stifle a deep groan.

This was not how the universe should be. The universe should be logical, predictable and mostly dull. It should not be…twisted and wild, an existence where absolutely _nothing _seemed beyond possibility. At present, they were hurdling through space, in the blue phone box, towards some supposedly well-known crime lord's space station fortress to steal a diamond that powereda civilization of purple castle-dwelling aliens. It offended his sense of…well, _everything_ really.

Klaus Eberbach watched the thin trail of grey cigarette smoke simmering in the air and shut his eyes again. He could accept the situation, since he had to. Earlier, he had been able to kill the aliens that had attacked them, knowing what they were and the complete—incredulity—of the situation. He had been able to act because it had been imperative for him to do so and he was a soldier—what had Eroica called him, so many years ago when they had first met?—the very epitome of a soldier—he did what he had to do.

The Iron Major ground the cigarette to a pulp of ash between his gun-callused fingers and then gripped his knees tightly, to stop himself from shaking. NEVER in his thirty years of life, had he felt as unnerved as he did then. His entire world—hell, universe!—had been turned inside out and upside down. If time travel and space stations and aliens and robots were all possible, then what _else_ that he had believed to be nothing but nonsense was real and out there just waiting to mock his preconceptions of reality?

Images of the saints and angels he had dismissed in his childhood swam about uneasily teetering on the corners of his mind, and even more discomforting—

_Twisted and wild, an existence where absolutely _nothing_ seemed beyond possibility_—

How could he _help _but think of that damned beautiful thief, shimmering torrent of golden curls cascading over firm shoulders, glowing in the hotred-orange aura of the sunset, all too like one of the mythical angels painted on the walls of the chapel his father had taken him to over twenty years ago. And with those eyes, even bluer than heaven, and always—infuriatingly!—staring at HIM with that LOOK that was not quite lust and was sort of hazy and full of admiration and affection and never seemed to dull or fade despite the fact that it was NEVER returned.

_"It's called LOVE, darling."_

Klaus stared at the white door and wall infront of him for several long minutes without seeing them at all, shaking his head furiously when reason finally returned to him.

"I am losing my mind," he muttered, and, retrieving his magnum from his shoulder holster, he began cleaning the weapon with an automatic and ingrained efficiency.

It was some time later, he had just finished reassembling the gun, when a brisk knock at his door came. "SO sorry to interrupt, darling, but it seems we have arrived at our destination."

"Since when does Eroica knock?" Klaus asked dryly, the door sliding open as he walked towards it.

The thief looked a little nonplussed about that and pouted slightly. "I couldn't open the door," he confessed finally. "I don't know how to pick a door that doesn't have a handle much less a lock."

"We'll have to do something about that," the Doctor's voice said cheerily as he appeared behind them, from a door across the hall that Klaus could have sworn led to a broom closet earlier, but now appeared to lead directly to the central control room. "Here," he pulled the Sonic Screwdriver out of his jacket and tossed it to Eroica. "I have others," he explained.

"He has an innumerable number of gadgets," Rose added, as the four assembled in the TARDIS' main room.

"Really?" Dorian asked, one golden eyebrow arching curiously. "Which is the most useful?"

"In my considerable experience?" the Doctor replied. "A teaspoon and an open mind. Now then, let me show you how to use the Screwdriver, you'll find it useful for all sorts of things. The ultrasonic coherent wave generator, for example," he switched something on the small instrument, "generates a focused wave of sonic vibration that can be used for the removal of screws. The sonic-electro impulse generator, on the other hand," another switch, "produces a high degree of static electricity and radio interference. It can trigger bombs and alarm systems, or, by reversing the polarity, it can disable circuits, halt detonators, all manner of useful things! It can also work as a metal detector—even override electronic neural brain implants, useful for dealing with victims of brainwashing. The linear wave emitter can repair electrical circuits, although the correct intensity must be used...by reversing the polarity this mode can be used to damage and physically destroy electronic parts."

"Um…that's all very well and good," Dorian said, smiling a little weakly. "But are you sure you should be giving this to _me_? I don't know much about machines and the like…let alone the intensity…waves of…electronic…circuits…Wouldn't the Major be more suited to—"

"No, no, I haven't gotten to the best part yet!" the Doctor insisted. He turned to the door behind them. "The kinetic impulse generator! By producing high-kinetic vibrations this mode will open locks, control switches from a distance…see?" he removed a panel from the TARDIS' wall and waved the screwdriver around a collection of wires, showing Eroica what he was doing, and the door slid open."It will also work on those primitive locks you have back in your time, by the way. And I don't need it, I've got dozens of them!"

A familiar manic grin from the Doctor, and the Major was beginning to wonder if he was even more insane than the bloody thief, when the TARDIS came to a shuddering halt and the Doctor immediately turned from them, and headed for the doors. Dorian shrugged and pocketed the Sonic Screwdriver, and Rose shook her head, although Klaus wasn't entirely sure why.

He was distracted by Eroica tugging lightly on the sleeve of his uniform with the incessancy of a child, and wondered whether to yell at the idiot or grudgingly ignore him. And _then _Eroica started chattering, which wasn't exactly a new annoyance to Klaus, but nevertheless…

"Isn't this incredible, Major? It isn't like anything we've ever done before—not that I was exactly bored before, mind you—but, well you know—" the Earl's slender hands fluttered around for a moment and he twirled one of his golden curls around his fingers absently while talking. Klaus wasn't about to wonder why he was paying so much attention to the thief's actions.

_If I glare at him, will he stop talking? Probably not._

"Didn't _you _ever feel like, well, I don't know, like something was _missing _before? Like there was something more out there in the universe just waiting for us? And now we're here—wherever here is—and just think that we're saving thousands of those strange aliens from a horrible death and—"

The Major thought he could mention that his usual missions for NATO involved protecting thousands of people, a.k.a. the _free world_, from war and a horrible death and he _didn't _need to disobey the laws of physics and travel half way across the universe in a blue box to do it, but suddenly he found that Eroica had led him to the TARDIS' door and it was more than a little disconcerting that he had been too busy watching the thief to notice that theyhad been walking. In fact, it was exceedingly disturbing.

"Come on, come on!" the Doctor exclaimed, ushering them out of the TARDIS' wooden doors. Rose stood beside him, watching him with an expression that was disturbingly similar, the Major thought, to the way the Earl looked at him. "We haven't got much time. I've landed us right inside Ristead's complex but it shouldn't be long before the mercenaries he has guarding this place take notice of us. And from what I've heard they aren't very friendly. I'm not sure exactly what they are, but from what I've gathered I've narrowed down the list of possibilities to 5, 479 different species of warrior races that live in this galaxy, none of whom are very pleasant company."

"So all we have to do is not get caught," Eroica said easily.

The Doctor grinned. "I like the way you think, Lord Gloria!"

Rose shook her head slightly again, but this time she was watching the Doctor with a sort of bemused smile. "Right then, let's find that Solar Crystal diamond thingamajig and get out of here!"

It wasn't long at all, before they were being shot at.

Racing through endless hallways, the close walls, floor and ceilings all a non-descript metallic silver with slight indentations where the door slid apart, completely devoid of any sort of windows, which, Klaus supposed, made sense as they were _supposedly _hurling through space in a twisting orbit around the sun. _A_ sun. Whatever.

Mechanical surveillance systems equipped with rapid firing machine guns swivelled around from the corners of the walls bombarding them with wave after wave of blinding explosions, tearing up the walls and floor behind them into unrecognizable smouldering wrecks and heaps of slag. Alarms were blaring shrilly, nearly deafening in their ears and Major Eberbach ground his teeth and restrained from the urge to kill the three incompetent idiots he was working with—why was he working with them again?—this was no way to infiltrate enemy territory!

The Doctor pulled them to a sudden halt near one of the metal doors and shouted, "Open this!" Presumably to Eroica, while at the same time pulling out his own Sonic Screwdriver, pressing some buttons on it and waving it in the direction of the mechanical arms that were shooting at them.

Instantly, the machines stopped and fell silent, the long rifles of the machine guns dropping forwards limply in defeat. "Sonic electro-impulse generator," the Doctor breathed a little heavily after their long run. "Reversed polarity—disabled the circuits, although now our enemies know where we are—if they didn't already."

The Major turned to Eroica, who was kneeling by the door's control panel. Ever-adaptable, Eroica was somehow a natural at using the Doctor's tools, and after a few seconds of his poking around with the Sonic Screwdriver the electronic door groaned and slid open. Klaus watched the excited flash of triumph dance across Eroica's blue eyes as the door gave way and the thief laughed.

A loud gun shot cut the laughter short as a smoking hole the size of a fist appeared in the tarnished metal of the wall beside them. The four turned and saw more of the invulnerable, enormous masked men who had also attacked them in the KGB hideout thundering towards them, this time bearing heavy weapons that appeared to be across between rifles and canons.

Klaus automatically fired his magnum, striking the closest of their attackers dead centre in the chest, but the man did not flinch, nor did their enemies stop advancing. "What in hell are they?"

"I don't know!" the Doctor muttered. "I wish I did, believe me! They're _like _Cybermen, on a biological level, but they _aren't _Cybermen. They're warriors of some sort, and they seem to have cybernetic implants—or they're just robots, OR—"

"SHIT! MOVE! NOW!" Klaus roared, grabbing Eroica, who was still kneeling on the floor in a sort of stunned stillness, by the shoulder and hauling him through the opened door. Rose and the Doctor ran in after them, and from there it was another desperate race through twisting hallways.

The girl stumbled and almost fell, but the Doctor was instantly behind her and caught her in his arms against his chest. She turned her head back and looked up at him, and just for that second their eyes met and he brushed back a piece of her hair, his dark gaze swimming with concern.

And then they were running again, and turned a sharp corner when—

Eroica stumbled to a halt and Klaus ran into him and startled back, unconsciously grasping the thief's shoulder in a bruising grip as they stared at the universe that seemed to open up beneath them. The entire wall and ceiling of the room they had just entered was covered by a transparent window of some sort (Klaus assumed it could not be glass) and the thick black sky unfolded everywhere, blazing stars scattered across the darkness and a red-golden sun burning and flaring before them. Somehow it was not blinding to look at the sun despite the proximity, which again, Klaus attributed to whatever was being used for the window. They could also see a portion of the complex they were racing through; a giant silver ring stretching across the darkness, with jagged corners jutting out like glistening knives and bits of satellites swimming through the deep black curtain of space around them.

Klaus could not stop staring at it, although he was quick to release the Earl's shoulder. It was…even for him…incredible in its sheer unearthliness and impossibility. And that was the precise moment that he _had _to admit that everything he was seeing and experiencing was not some sort of complex trick being played on him by the Russians. It was all true. It was not a drug or a hallucination or an insanely complicated plot to drive him insane. And the force of that hit him….

"Major? Major? …Klaus? Are you okay?" It was Eroica's voice, finally, that brought him back. "It's just a window. A really BIG window," the Earl laughed nervously, twisting a golden curl around again, obviously he had been quite shaken by the sudden appearance of the universe as well.

"Of course it is! Idiot!" Klaus snapped automatically, reaching for a cigarette with oddly shaking hands. _I need a cigarette. And after this is over, one hell of a drink. _

Oddly, if anything the Earl looked reassured by his outburst. Well, he hadn't understood the thief for ten years, no reason to start now. Taking a steadying breath from his cigarette, the Major surveyed their surroundings.

He saw that only one wall and half of the ceiling opened up to the great window, the rest of the area expanded into a massive open area several yards wide, easily the length of two football fields, with artificial trees scattered about, some benches and tables to sit at, and several fountains with a long narrow pool of water stretching across the length. It seemed to be some sort of recreation or observation centre.

Along the wall opposite the observation window, several stories of separate levels of the complex could be seen clearly, as the hallways opened up in a manner that would allow the people walking them to lean over and look into the park-area, directly above the fountains and pool.

Eroica was laughing again. "This is—this is brilliant!" he enthused, stretching his arms as though to encompass the whole enormity of the space. He turned back to Klaus suddenly, the long buoyant golden curls bouncing lightly off his shoulders and brushing the pale face, the expression alight with excitement and wonder. The Major quickly became very interested in the remains of his cigarette and pulled out a second.

"Alright," the Doctor's voice interrupted them and Klaus was surprised that he had almost forgotten the alien and Miss Tyler were with them. "We'll meet back here in this park-area and then head to the TARDIS after we've finished."

"Meet back here? You mean we're splitting up?" Eroica asked, a moment of concern flickering over his face.

The Doctor nodded. "You and Rose can steal the diamond. The Major and I will go have a word with our friend Ristead. I don't like how those same creatures we fought in Russia are also attacking us in the Luinway galaxy on the other side of the universe. Something is definitely going on here and we need some answers."

There was a moment's pause and then both Rose and Eroica turned to face each other with something like horror.

"You mean I have to work with _him_?"

"You mean I have to work with _her_?"

"_Doctor!_"

"_Major!_"

"You'll be fine," came the dry and unanimous response as both Doctor and Major turned quickly on their heels and left.

Klaus followed the Doctor down another long hallway, the man seemed to know where they were going, well sort of. The Major merely sighed and reloaded his magnum. When the Doctor wasn't around Rose Tyler, his personality seemed more subdued, the Major realized. The dark shadows forming over the stranger's eyes belied the weariness and solitude of a soldier, it was a look that Klaus had seen often before in the eyes of veterans, wounded and tired. It was something, at least, that he could understand.

Both men were silent.

In short time they came to the end of a wide hallway which had been lined with ornate glaring lights and a long carpet. Display cases had been built into the walls and an odd assortment of various strange things sat proudly behind planes of glass, although whether they were supposed to be some sort of alien weaponry, art that even the Earl would not have been able to appreciate, or random things fished out of a garbage bin, Klaus honestly could not decide.

"Something tells me we're on the right track," the Doctor commented.

Klaus snorted. "I find this man loathsome already. Let's get this over with."

"Couldn't agree more," the Doctor replied, pulling out his Sonic Screwdriver and waving it in front of the closed metal door at the end of the hall.

With an acquiescent buzz the metal sheet slid open, and the two men found themselves standing in a great deep room that might have been an office, or a throne room. It opened up into a wide circular area all covered in thick carpet. Standing in the centre, looking over a series of flickering surveillance screens, stood a tall straight-backed man in a pinstriped suit and tie with shiny black shoes and slicked back hair.

"I'm a busy man," Ristead drawled. "What do you want?"

"Who do you work for?" the Major demanded in a thunderous tone.

"What are you talking about? I'm the richest man in this galaxy—Julius Ristead III works for no one!"

"Try again," the Major growled, releasing the magnum's safety with a decidedly loud _clack_.

Ristead turned to face them then, and the Major felt his eyes widen and tightened his grip on the magnum so hard he could nearly feel the gun bending under his iron grasp. The man had what looked to be a dozen long thin horns sticking up out of his skull in long blue-black splinters that jutted up from beneath his black hair. His nose was long and pointed like the beak of a vulture, and his ears curved into points that branched off in three separate layers of flesh.

"Is it the Master?" the Doctor asked. "Is he back? Did he survive the Time Wars? Do you work for him?"

Klaus shook his head and narrowed his gaze on the alien, determined not to let a thing as irrelevant as the man's appearance throw him off. He was Iron Klaus, after all. And Ristead was beginning to look uncomfortable, his shaky gaze travelled from one man to the other and when the Major took one menacing step towards him, he jumped. "N—no! It isn't the Master, he's dead or gone or something but it—n-no it's not him, I swear!"

"Then who is it?" the Doctor exclaimed angrily. "IS it another Time Lord?"

"Damn it where are my guards?" Ristead shouted shrilly, turning back to the computer screens. "Where the hell are they when I need them?"

"ANSWER me!"

"Or you'll do what, exactly, Doctor?" the slimy-looking man sneered.

"You had better give us some answers, Ristead," the Major said slowly, raising his magnum.

"What is that? Is it supposed to be a weapon?" the man sneered asked.

A piece of wall exploded in bits of shrapnel an inch from the man's head. This got Ristead's attention. "What the hell—who do you think you are? I could have you killed!"

Another shot rang out in the quiet of the office and this time Ristead let out a scream of pain as a bullet dug deeply into his shoulder, quickly soaking the right arm of his suit with thick red blood. "Just answer the question," the Major said slowly, his green eyes menacing.

"Is it a Time Lord controlling this—controlling you? The theft on Luinway—and those things that keep attacking us, the cyborg men with the masks, is it a Time Lord behind all this?" the Doctor demanded.

Ristead stared at them with his eyes wide and black. Clutching his wounded arm, he stumbled backwards, hitting the computer screens and leaving a thick trail ofblood behind him. "I…y…yes…it is…another Time Lord," he choked. "And those cyborgs are my own invention, I had them constructed right here on this station.They're the ultimate in weapons of mass warfare. I call them Spartens. Now you've got what you wanted—get out!"

"And you sell these 'Spartens' to this Time Lord? What exactly are his plans?" Klaus demanded.

"Why is he trying to kill us?" the Doctor added. "Or is he trying to kill everyone, and we just get to go first?"

Ristead looked around with wide eyes, "Where—where—where are my damn guards! Where are my weapons? My Spartens!"

"Shut up!" Klaus thundered.

"I—" Ristead turned back to the surveillance monitors that lined his walls, as though desperately searching for some small scrap of hope. And evidently he found it, because he began to laugh a hideous, horrible, deep throated cackle.

"What are you—" the Doctor was cut off when the criminal gestured to the flickering monitors lining the walls.

"You fools! You've already lost. Now I know where my Spartens have been all this time you've been harassing me. So, you brought some friends along, did you?"

Klaus stared at the flickering screens, beside him he heard the Doctor, as though very far away, cry out, "Rose—NO!"

But all Klaus could see were the small blurry forms running from an army that swarmed around them, an army that they could not beat and could not escape, a bloodthirsty machine. On the screen, Eroica grabbed Rose's arm and pulled her away from a column of Spartens that came out of the wall in front of them and desperately, the two ran…

"My army has been taking care of your little friends and ensuring the safety of my precious diamond! You won't get what you came for, and when my robots are through with your comrades they'll kill you, too!"

But Klaus and the Doctor had long since stopped listening the madman's ramblings.

"They're heading back in the direction of the—"

"Recreation centre!"

Ristead was forgotten as both men turned and ran.

The silver walls flashed by them, the display cases vanished into unimportance and the long stretches were torture as a million horrors imagined wormed their way into each man's mind. The Major felt a darkness deep in his chest that pulled so hard it almost froze him completely.

_Everyone hates you._

_Everyone is alone._

He could rationalize that he had a responsibility to protect the thief, since Eroica was currently working for NATO. He could reason that the thief, as annoying and frivolous and unpredictable as he was, had often in the past risked _his _life to help Klaus. He could always think that the two had been…something…if not exactly friends or enemies…they had been a constant in each other's lives and…perversity and idiocy aside, Eroica was a (relatively) good man, and he did not…deserve…to die.

_Hurt to admit that, didn't it?_

He did not deserve to be ripped apart by a pack of mindless creatures that he had no chance or hope against.

_Only fools believe in things like love and friendship. And they never live long._

_There is nothing in the universe but darkness._

But that did nothing to explain why the constant torrent of images flooding Klaus' mind then were—the thief's profile bathed in the aura of the setting sun, the blue eyes shimmering at him, the smile, laughing when he opened the door with the Doctor's tools, amazed at the view from the observation centre, and looking at him…with that look…that Klaus could finally recognize as Love.

He and the Doctor tore around the last corner, the observation area opening up before them in a sudden burst of light so strong it was momentarily blinding. But the artificial trees, the fountain, the long narrow strip of pool, these things ceased to exist as, three stories above them, they could see Dorian and Rose running, long blond hair whipping out behind them as they raced and stumbled and skidded around the Spartens that surrounded them.

Even from so far away, the fear on the faces of Rose and Dorian was painfully clear to both observers. And Klaus and the Doctor could do nothing but stand stock still, three stories below, and watch.

Dorian seemed to be yelling something to Rose, as the Spartens closed in around them, and the two of them back up against the waist-high railing that separated them from the large open space of the observation centre.

And then they heard what he was screaming.

"Jump! Rose, you have to JUMP!"

Beside him, the Doctor made a sort of strangled noise deep in his throat. "—Rose!"

But the cyborgs were surrounding the two in a tight circle, all bearing long black rifle-like weapons that raised in unison and took the girl and thief in their sights.

In that instant, as the Doctor and the Major watched, Dorian grabbed Rose Tyler, and shoved her roughly over the edge of the railing. The Doctor cried out, the girl fell, and there was a volley of gunfire more harsh and piercing than anything Klaus had ever heard in his entire career.

_Nothing but that great terrifying darkness opening up above him and obliterating all sight and sound, casting his senses into a deep smouldering sea where he was disgustingly and eternally alone._

_Except…_

Dorian smiling. Dorian laughing. Tossing those abundant golden locks over his shoulder teasingly. Stretched out like a cat on an antique divan. Coyly sipping an ornate goblet of wine while casting him suggestive glances. Looking at him like he was not alone.

He was

_Not alone._

The Major felt the floor slam hard into his knees as the world fell apart around him and the air seemed to be driven from his lungs. He could do nothing but watch as the stream of golden hair spilled in a thick river, and the slender body fell, a thin trail of red blood following through the air.

He seemed to fall forever.

The world, the angel, all falling. Light, life, cruelly ripped away.

Klaus forgot how to breathe.

The Earl's body hit the water in the fountains below.

**To be Continued in Episode 05: The Diamond that Wouldn't Stay Stolen Part II**


	5. Episode 05: The Diamond that Wouldn't St...

**Episode 05: TheDiamond that Wouldn't Stay Stolen Part II**

It hurt.

The blinding pain, slicing straight through him, burning his chest so that the sting raced outwards, grasping his entire body in a grip that twisted and knocked the air from his lungs. The sound of the weapon fire exploding in his eardrums, deafening. Horrid.

_I don't…_

And the ground was ripped up from beneath his feet, and somewhere people were yelling and screaming, and he felt the long waves of golden curls as they were pulled backwards in the air, as his body tumbled over the precipice and fell…

_Not like this…_

The last thing the Earl of Gloria thought, as his body struck the hard surface of the water and the explosion of the splash and sudden curtain of fluid smothered him, blocking off light and air, the thick wet feeling of his own blood sickeningly swimming out around him, his limbs weak and uselessly flailing under their own accord, was…that he could not possibly allow the adventures of Eroica to end on such a sad and horrific note.

_And…_

Where was Klaus?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

An hour later, Rose Tyler sat in the TARDIS, wrapped in a thick blanket that had appeared from somewhere, in a chair across from a closed door, behind which the Doctor was treating Dorian. But how much could the Earl be treated, after being shot in the chest and falling three-stories into ice-cold water?

She shut her eyes. She didn't want to think about it.

Her teeth chattered and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. She was freezing and she had been freezing since the Doctor had pulled her from the frigid pool. Honestly, she really could not remember much of what had happened after that, it was all jumbled bits of chaos—their not-so-heroic escape.

She pulled her knees up to her chest.

Across from her, the Major was standing, then pacing, then leaning against the TARDIS' wall lighting a cigarette. His eyes that were clouded and dark. His face was white and thin, tightly drawn, a deep grief shielded behind a stony expressionless mask.

She knew she ought to say something. Something comforting. Something reassuring. But how could she? What could she say? She had seen…Rose swallowed and hugged herself tightly.

There had been so much _blood_. In the water. Falling in crimson beads in a thick trail on the floor when they dragged him out. And the Earl's flesh had been, in stark contrast, grey, ashen. It had not looked at all right.

"He…he was protecting me," she said softly, the words sounding strange, forced from her tightened throat. "He said I was too young to…shouldn't be…and they—those _things_—were just _everywhere_…I…I'm so sorry."

The Major did not appear to hear her. He inhaled the poison of his cigarette deeply, staring ahead at nothing with darkened eyes. Just for that moment, Rose thought he was the most miserable person she had ever seen. She buried her face in her knees.

The metal door of the operating room slid open.

"Well that took a bit of work," the Doctor said, stepping out to greet them.

The Major regarded him with a blank expression. Utterly, absolutely, completely. Blank.

Rose stared at the Major, then the Doctor. "Will the Earl be….?" she swallowed the lump that had been building in her throat, almost afraid of the answer.

"Lord Gloria will be fine," the Doctor announced. "In fact, he'll be superb! And all it took was an hour of operations using the most advanced medical technology in the whole of the universe. Fancy that."

Rose stared up at him in amazement, though she could not quite believe what she was hearing. "But…Doctor…he—he was…_shot_…he _fell_…"

"Hey, who's the _Doctor_ here, hmm? I said Lord Gloria will be fine and he'll be fine! Really, you don't travel through time and space seeking adventure wherever you can find it for nine-hundred odd years without learning a thing or two about treating bullet wounds. Or laser wounds. Or… Anyways, Lord Gloria is resting now. I doubt it will be too long before he wakes up. In the mean time, I fancy a bite to eat. Coming?"

She stared at him for a moment. "But shouldn't someone be here? I mean when he…" she broke off, glancing at the Major. Iron Klaus had returned to staring resolutely at the wall, though the tight set of his angular jaw and clenched fists were somehow an improvement over the pallid misery she had witnessed minutes earlier.

He seemed in no hurry to leave.

Quietly, she stood and followed the Doctor. He placed a hand on her shoulder gently and she looked up at him in surprise. He had a distant look in his eyes.

"That was no joke, back there," he told her quietly, once they had left the hallway and gone deeper into one of the TARDIS' many rooms. "Eroica almost died. It was close, even for _me_ to repair the damage. And I'm bloody brilliant! Very close."

"Do you think he'll be okay, then?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor looked at her for a moment, then smiled. "And here I thought you couldn't _stand_ him, Rose Tyler!"

"Come on, that doesn't mean I want him to die!" she protested. She could feel her lower lip trembling, and once again her entire body seemed to shake as a vapid chill washed over her. He must have seen the pain in her eyes, because his expression once again turned sober and he rubbed her shoulders gently.

"Are you still cold, Rose?" He asked. She could not respond, her throat seemed closed off and choked. She was cold.

It was not the first time she had been frightened, travelling with the Doctor.

It was not the first time she had almost been killed, although plummeting three stories into a frigid pond was not something she would ever want to experience again.

And even if the Earl _had_ died, it would not have been the first time, since travelling with the Doctor, that she witnessed the death of someone she had befriended—even tentatively befriended.

But somehow it was harder, and made harder by the knowledge that the thief had almost died in the act of protecting _her. _

She felt the tremor run through her again, and this time the warmth of the Doctor's arms as they wrapped tightly around her shoulders and drew her into a close embrace. She felt her heart catch in her chest at the sudden warmth of being held next to him, and the feel of his two hearts beating in unison through the warm leather jacket. "Doctor—"

"I know, but I told you, he'll be okay. Lord Gloria is a survivor, Rose." The Doctor paused for a minute. And then seemed to take her shocked stillness as a sign that she had recovered, for he released her from his arms immediately and stepped back a few paces before continuing. "He's strong, stronger than most of you primitive apes," he said the last part half-jokingly now, the familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. "Like you, Rose."

"No," she said, blinking her misting eyes. She drew a hand to her face and quickly pushed away a dampness she had not realized was there. "Don't compare me to the Earl. Please. Ever."

"What?" he asked, looking at her incredulously. "You're still mad at the bloke, then?"

"No, it's not that. It's just…"

"Just_ what_? What is it, Rose? What's been bothering you lately?"

"Nothing!" she said, unable to help sniffling a little, which wasn't going to help and she hated herself for it.

"Don't tell me nothing's been bothering you! Do you think I can't tell that you've been—well you haven't been like yourself!" the Doctor told her, nearly shouting.

"What? How do_ you_ know? What do you mean 'like myself?'" she demanded.

"Oh come on, Rose, don't give me that! You're usually compassionate, _caring_, and lately—it's like what you asked ME in Van Statten's museum, Rose—what the hell are you changing into!"

She just stared at him for a moment, her large brown eyes wide and startled. She could not think or move with the cold lump that had settled, twisting and gnawing inside of her chest. And when she finally did unfreeze her limbs enough to move, she turned. And she ran.

It seemed like the only thing she could do. Her trembling legs threatened to buckle out from under her with every movement, and she fought back the cry that was pressing at the inside of her throat, choking her. She could hear him chasing after her, and hurled herself through the nearest doorway, slamming it shut behind her.

Outside, she could hear the Doctor bang on the metal uselessly, and finally what sounded like him falling forwards and allowing his head to smack loudly against the doorframe. "Rose, listen. I'm SORRY. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just—"

"No, Doctor," she said quietly, taking a deep breath, she pushed the blonde locks of hair away from her damp face and opened the door. _A pretty picture I must make, _she thought bitterly, _all teary-eyed and dishevelled with a face red from crying._ It was by force of will alone that she was able to speak the next two words: "You're right."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I—I'm right? Well that's a bit of good news. What about?"

"I've been acting like a stubborn, spoiled little brat," she sighed deeply, the sound wavering and thin and almost like crying in itself. She hated herself for it. For being so weak. But it hurt so badly, she didn't know how to say what she knew had to be said, without crying. It felt like ripping out a piece of her own heart. But she took another steadying breath. It had to be said. She had to say it:

"I know my time with you is over and I should stop—stop clinging to you like a stubborn child. I—I should just accept that you've found your new companions and it's time for me to make my exit, and you to fight your new adventures and I just want you to know that I can—that I under—that I understand that—"

"Rose…" he said slowly, staring at her with a confused and horrified expression, which she only saw when he grabbed her shoulders roughly and forced her to look at him. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"I—I can handle it, you know. I know I'm just another companion to you, and we've had our bit of fun and now it's time for you to—to move on and leave me back in my ordinary life where you found me, in ordinary London with my ordinary mum and my ordinary boyfriend—"

"Rose, you're not—"

"Come on Doctor, you've told me about the companions you've had in the past," she said, furiously driving back her tears and smearing them away roughly with her wrists. "None of them lasted very long, did they? And I—I wouldn't have traded it for the world, you know," she stopped suddenly, and stared up at him, into the eyes that were older and more weary and shadowed then the rest of the face, into the eyes of her closest friend and the man she had—yes, she had—fallen to love. "You do know that right?" she whispered. "As much as it hurts now, I wouldn't have missed it for the world, not one second of it. All of the things you've shown me. Worlds I never imagined. Situations that challenged my old beliefs. Everything…"

"Rose, what in God's name are you going on about?" the Doctor demanded, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a bit roughly. "Are you _dying_? No, wait, I'm the Doctor, I'd _know _if you were dying—you're NOT dying—so what are you—?"

"I—I understand, Doctor! It's not your fault. I know you never meant to hurt me. Before, I guess, you could get away with having a companion like me,"

"What are you talking about? What do you mean 'like you?'"

"But now things are really bad, another Time Lord and everything and—I don't know, maybe the whole universe is at stake because of it—and—and you need companions that can help you fight him, don't you? A Major—a _NATO_ officer, and a world famous thief—they probably know all sorts of things that can help you—and you knew it was coming to this, didn't you? So that's why you made the K-9 MarkIV, to send with me when you dump me back at home, to take care of me, like you did with your other companions—what were their names? Leela and R—Roma-something-or-other and that S-S-Sarah Jane you told me about—and—and—"

"Rose, STOP IT!" the Doctor shouted suddenly, "You are NOT being—being 'replaced' by Major Eberbach and Lord Gloria! They could NEVER replace you! And I NEVER leave my companions, Rose—THEY leave ME. I built the K-9 unit to see if I could even do it and because I missed the mutt! Besides, you don't need K-9 to take care of you, you're perfectly capable of doing that on your own, as I'm sure the Nestene Consciousness would agree."

"Doctor—"

"They could never replace you, Rose! NO ONE could replace YOU!" without thinking, he grasped her tightly and pulled her close, crushing her against him as his arms wound tightly around her back and she was pressed against his chest. "You're special, Rose…" he murmured into her hair.

Her breath was caught in her chest and she was sure that her heart had stopped beating. Time and space seemed to lurch and freeze simultaneously all around them. The entire universe had become only the crushing warmth of his body all around her, firm and fiercely protective, as though he was afraid she would disappear, just vanish straight out of the TARDIS. She could feel the cool tingle of the tears dropping softly to her cheeks, and the Doctor had her pinned against him, so she could do nothing to wipe them away, so she buried her face in his jacket, and let them fall.

"But…I haven't got anything to offer you, have I?" she asked slowly, reluctantly pulling out of their embrace so that she could meet his gaze steadily. "I mean you're a Time Lord, and then there's the _Major_ and the _Thief_ and what am _I_ supposed to be? The _Cashier_? I worked in a department store—well, until you blew it up, anyways. And it's not like I'm a GENIUS like Adam. I—I live in an apartment with my mum! I never even finished my A levels, heck I hated school!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Rose, genius-boy Adam is no longer with us," the Doctor said, rolling his eyes. "And as for the rest, you're being utterly ridiculous. How could you even think—? You've saved my life, remember? More times than I'd care to admit."

"Doctor…" she could feel herself beginning to smile, despite herself.

"And that's not it, no, you…" he sighed deeply, looking away for a moment, his eyes deep and staring into a void of space. "Do you remember what else happened in Van Statten's museum, Rose? With the…the Dalek?"

She shuddered a little at the memory. She wasn't likely to forget the experience. A creature built—designed—bred—whatever they had done to it—for only one purpose, to obey orders and to kill—exterminate all other life. A creature that she had unwittingly freed from captivity and a killer that had somehow been changed by her, and finally…exterminated itself. Under her command.

"How could I forget?" she asked quietly.

"At the time I was blinded by anger—by hatred. All I could think of was that the creature had to die, deserved to die, would kill all of us if it did not die. But you—you, Rose, you felt compassion for it. You felt…something…for that twisted horrible mutation. You saw some impossible shred of life within all of that ugliness. And you saw me for what I almost…"

"It's not your fault, Doctor." She whispered, reaching up and brushing his face gently with her fingertips. "They—after what the Daleks did to your planet, to your people…."

He shook his head. "I was just thinking, Rose. You looked the most beautiful, right then."

He turned and left.

She stared after him with widened eyes. The Doctor _hadn't_ just said what she thought he'd said.

Had he?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was altogether too bright. That was the first thought Dorian became aware of as his senses slowly returned to him and the heavy blanket of darkness was lifted from his eyes. The blinding light. It was giving him a headache. He tried to move his arm and block it out, but his limbs felt like sacks of cement and a dull aching fire was smouldering painfully in his chest, just under his left shoulder. He tried to speak, but his throat felt closed and tight and the only sound that he could force through his lips was a weak sort of groan.

The light truly was unbearable, but the most he could do was shift his head slightly and grimace. He didn't like the thought of him grimacing. It wasn't very attractive.

But the offending light was flicked off, and somewhere, hazily, through his groggy senses, Dorian thought he heard a very familiar voice grumble "Idiot."

When he heard that voice, he knew that he could allow his body to fall back into a restful sleep.

The second time he awoke, was better. The pain had receded from his chest and turned to a sort of dull ache, and although still heavy and slightly dizzy, his head was considerably clearer. He blinked his eyes several times at the white walls embedded with their strange protruding spheres before he remembered where he was, when he was (it sort of seemed an issue now) and what had happened.

His heart quickened slightly at the vivid memory of the towering monstrous hulks looming around him and that girl, and he couldn't quite help but shiver at the memory of their gunshots, loud and ringing in his ears, and all of them aiming squarely for _him_…

He sighed. And leaned back a little further into the pillows. He was obviously alive, so they had obviously gotten out. Fretting over it would hardly do him any good _now_.

The quiet scratching flicker of a lighter nearly made him jump out of his skin. He was so sure he had been alone. Blame it on post-operation wooziness, the thief told himself, turning slowly, his heart racing.

The next sight nearly made his heart stop. Again.

He really couldn't take much more of this.

But it was the _Major _sitting there by his _bedside_, K-9 resting there by his feet. For a moment, all Eroica would do was stare. There was something almost…domestic about the picture they made there. And it was so…remarkable, to see the Iron Major there, sitting there…waiting for him? Watching out for _him_? Dorian felt his pulse quicken again. Surely, he could be forgiven for staring _this _time.

He sighed wistfully, watching Klaus smoke. The silence lengthened.

"Darling, are you alright?"

"You alright?"

Both spoken at the same time. Wide blue eyes met green, for only the briefest of moments, before the Major threw his hands up in a disgusted snarl. "_Me_? I'm not the one that was—you _idiot_! _Mein Gott, _can't you even get it through your empty English skull that YOU are the one who was injured! It serves you right for not paying attention to what you were doing! God knows, you think of nothing but your STUPID, PERVERTED—"

And it went on as such.

Dorian, as accustomed as he was to hearing the Major's enraged roar, found himself wincing a little as his still cloudy mind was assaulted by loud German profanities. K-9's ears twisted around several times, and the robot slid back aways from the Major's chair.

"You know, love. If I didn't know better I could _swear_ you were actually worried about me!" he had to shout it out to be heard over the Major's continuing rant, and when he did, Klaus halted so suddenly that the silence actually rang with the last lingering notes of their raised voices.

The Major stood so quickly it was really more of a lunge, looming over the Earl with a glare that might have killed a weaker man, or at the very least reduced him to a whimpering puddle of fear under those murderous and frosted military-green orbs. Eroica, of course, merely gazed back, finding his darling's outrage to be a bit of a turn-on. Even when the Major leaned forwards, gripping the metal railing of the hospital-styled bedpost in a massive iron grip until his knuckles whitened, and his breath came out hot against Eroica's flesh.

Alright, _especially_, then.

"I love you," he sighed dreamily, before he even realized he had said it. _Stupid Dorian, very stupid. Not the thing to say when Klaus is already _this _angry. Now you're in for it. _

He really expected Iron Klaus to punch him and was just about to remind the Major that he had already suffered _one _near-mortal wound that day, when to his utter amazement, Klaus merely relaxed his grip on the bed's railing with a haggard sort of sigh, and fell back into his chair beside Dorian's bed, pulling another cigarette from the pocket of his military jacket as he did so.

"You confuse me," the Major sighed.

Dorian blinked. "So, what else is new?"

A small silence stretched between them, in which the Major smoked, the Earl stared at the ceiling, and the robot dog went back to its place between the two, it's head lowered slightly and its red eyes dimmed.

"I really do mean it you know," he said quietly, watching the smoke from the Major's cigarette float up in tangling wisps across the ceiling. "I really do love you, Major."

"No," Klaus said firmly. "You don't."

Dorian propped himself up onto his elbow to look at the Major, an incredulous expression on his face. "YES, I do."

The Major let out an angry sigh, as though irritated. "NO, you DON'T."

"And since WHEN do you get to tell me MY feelings, Major?" Dorian shot back angrily ."EXCUSE me, but I DO love you, even if you can be utterly—"

"NO, you don't!" Klaus snapped. "It's all some twisted delusion in that perverted brain of yours influenced by all of that idiotic romantic nonsense you enjoy so much and your own inability to discern fantasy from reality!"

"Is that what you think!"

"Yes!"

"So, you're saying it's all in my head!" Dorian shouted. "I think I know my own bloody emotions, Major! What do I feel then, if it's not love? What's made me chase you all around the world for the past ten years, risking life and limb against the KGB? Would you care to tell me, because I'd really like to know!"

"How the hell should I know? Your perverse infatuation coupled with a chemical imbalance in the brain? Maybe we should ask the damn Doctor!"

Dorian stared at Klaus. The Earl was, for once, too angry, even to speak. He felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest and gripped the bed sheets until his knuckles whitened, finally falling back and pointedly _not_ looking at Klaus.

So he was taken by complete surprise, when the low voice asked a bit unsteadily. "Are you in pain?"

"'the hell do you care?" Dorian responded, much more bitterly then he would have under normal circumstances, but his chest was starting to sting with a sort of sharp burning pain and truth be told, he was still smarting from the Major's last remark.

"Pouting like an insolent child isn't going to help anything!" Klaus thundered. "Tell me what's wrong this instant!"

_Only my Major could make concern sound threatening_, Dorian thought, closing his eyes. "I'm _fine_."

Another moment of silence past before Klaus, proving that lightning can strike twice, once again initiated conversation. "It was not my intention to begin fighting with you _now_, Lord Gloria. You are still under NATO's protection, and…with the recent events that have transpired…"

"I assure you, Major, NATO is in no danger of losing my services. At least, not because of what happened on that space station," Eroica replied.

Even with his eyes closed, Dorian could _feel_ the Major's frown. "Not everyone in your position would say the same. It was a very…traumatic incident, I am sure. Especially for a civilian."

Dorian frowned, opened his eyes and sat back more comfortably against the pillows to watch Klaus. He brushed some of the cigarette smoke away with his hand as he leaned back on the pillows and regarded the Major. "You didn't _actually _expect me to turn into a frail and weepy little thing over a scratch like that, did you? Really now, Major. Why honestly, I—well, I'm…made of tougher stuff than that!"

It was the strangest thing, really, to watch Klaus' head fall forwards ever-so slightly, the long raven-black hair falling to mask his expression, but judging by the slight shivering of the shoulders, there could be no mistake. The Major—Klaus—_his _Klaus, was actually _laughing_. There was something inexplicably unsettling about that.

"Are you laughing at me?" Dorian asked finally, his eyebrows creasing just a little as his lips formed almost-a pout. "Kl—Major?"

When Klaus raised his head, his expression had returned to its mask of sobriety, and he met Dorian's gaze for one lingering moment, in which the thief was genuinely puzzled, before rising to his feet. "No," the Major said quietly. "It's true." In the next moment, the officer leaned forwards, and Dorian felt the faintest brush of lips against his cheek.

He was too stunned to say or do anything at all, as the Major straightened and turned for the door. Blue eyes wide, Dorian finally managed to reach a slightly shaking hand to ghost over the still-tingling flesh.

"Klaus didn't just do what I think he just did, did he?" he whispered.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"So it's agreed then?" the Doctor asked. "We'll overtake Ristead's cargo ship, which is transporting the Solar Crystal diamond, when it leaves port. _Fantastic._ Should be a piece of cake, right?"

K-9's computer data banks whirred for a moment, and the small round ears rotated around. "Cake. A baked food native to Earth, comprised of flour, liquid and eggs. Coefficient of relevance to mission objective: zero percent."

The Doctor shot the robot a withering gaze. "Now I remember why I didn't build a Mark VI earlier."

Klaus brought a hand to his temples as though he was dizzy and groaned silently. Dorian laughed delightedly and Rose bit back a smile. When the two met each other's gaze they instantly froze and turned away.

The four had spent the better part of three hours trying to decide how to go about stealing the Meren's Solar Crystal. Thanks to the Doctor's medical technology, which was either from the distant future, or completely alien, or both, Dorian's near-mortal wound had mostly healed in the course of forty-eight hours, and when the five met in the TARDIS' main control centre, Rose was looking much happier and more energetic as well.

Although she still wasted no time in beginning an argument with Lord Gloria. This time, about his choice of profession.

"Honestly, England has a proud history of handsome outlaws! Just look at Robin Hood."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Oh please! You're so full of yourself! Like you're _really _that good-looking!"

The Earl sniffed a little in disdain. "Surely you jest, child. You're just jealous because all the cute bellboys on that Luinway resort were making eyes at _me_."

"Jealous? They weren't even human! And you have some nerve claiming to be like Robin Hood."

"I steal from the rich, don't I?"

"And give to yourself!"

"Putting me half-way there," came the decisive response.

Rose placed her hands on her hips observing the thief steadily, "How can you even _pretend _to justify robbing people of their national and cultural heritage? I remember reading about you in history class—"

_Ouch_, Eroica winced. Just watching their faces, you could tell _that _remark made him feel old. Never mind that Rose _did _come from nearly three decades into the Earl's future.

Rose continued on, she was back to her confident, opinionated self, the Doctor mused. "—you stole an entire _wing _from the National Gallery of London, didn't you?"

"For your information I _returned _those paintings! And for FREE, too. My poor little accountant cried his eyes out for WEEKS after that fiasco. All I kept was one little _Bronzini_ I fancied. And I gave them a bloody good forgery to hang up in it's place!"

"That! That's _terrible_—"

The Doctor felt his forehead creasing into a frown and he turned back to the TARDIS' control panel, hurriedly finding _something _to tinker around with. It had been a long time since he had an entire group of companions traveling with him, and to hear the walls of his ship reverberate with the raised voices of an argument…or maybe it was to hear Rose in one of her arguments with someone other than himself…it was more than a little odd. Odd and slightly uncomfortable. He didn't do 'domestic,' after all, as the granddaughter he had left in London so many decades, and nine incarnations, earlier would surely agree.

That Rose, he thought again, shaking his head slightly as he bent over the control panels with his Sonic Screwdriver and listened to her arguing. She could get so_ emotional _over things. And so _vocal_. Like when that strange psychic-girl had died, granted it had been sad, but…or at the end of the world when she just _had _to start a fight with the last living human…And then she had gotten angry at _him _because the TARDIS could read her mind! It was only trying to _help _for Pete's sake!

He had never had a companion quite like her before. Which meant that he had been right, the Doctor decided. She _was_ special. With a quiet sigh, the Doctor raised his head a little at the momentary silence that had descended upon the TARDIS.

It didn't last.

"_I_, at least, _appreciate _the beauty of art. The people I rob would keep the beauty of a Renoir locked away in some stuffy old vault, or hide a priceless Ming vase in the depths of a closet like an old coat!"

"I sincerely doubt _anyone _keeps a Ming vase packed in their closet," Rose replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm surprised you even know what one is," the Earl replied stuffily. "You don't exactly strike me as the 'cultured' type, Miss Tyler."

She looked at him in a way that made the Doctor inwardly cringe and be thankful that he wasn't, for once, the recipient. "Oh is that so? Well at least I would never wear _purple _faux pearls and those ungodly bracelets!"

"How dare you! These pearls were a birthday present from the Duchess of Gloucester! And besides, you should be the last person on Earth to complain about anyone's fashion sense, Miss Bright-Pink Sweater!"

"Excuse me! WHAT exactly is wrong with my sweater?"

The Doctor bent back over the control panel. There was always _something _that needed fixing.

He hazarded a wayward glance to the figure of the German Major who was leaning against one of the twisting support columns, rather determinedly smoking his dozenth or so cigarette. "They sound like children squabbling over…whatever idiotic things children squabble over," the Major said, apparently to thin air. Evidently_ he_ didn't 'do domestic,' either.

"Right then," the Doctor muttered, pulling one of the control panel's many levers with a firm yank.

Instantly,the TARDIS' lurched violently, sending Rose and the Earl both sprawling ungracefully to the floor. The Major smirked. K-9 skidded a bit on the uneven floor. The Doctor clapped his hands together with a wide grin plastered on hisface. "Alright then, kids, let's get this show on the road!"

Stepping out of the TARDIS revealed the interior of what was presumably one of Ristead's cargo shuttles. The walls, ceiling and floor were made of the same annoyingly shiny metallic substance that had filled the orbital space station, only everything was on a smaller scale, so that the narrow hallway they stumbled out into, with its low ceiling and close-walls, made the Doctor secretly thankful none of them suffered from claustrophobia. Although, they might by the time their adventure was over.

This time, they brought K-9 with them. His dog was equipped with a blaster, after all. The little metal dog whirred along at their feet, it's red eyes flashing, it skidded to a sudden halt just before a sharp corner. "Master, my sensors detect life-forms,"

"Organic?"

"Negative."

"Spartens," the Doctor nodded grimly.

"Howdo we deal with them?" Eroica asked. Then the thief paused for a moment, obviously considering something. "K-9, can you detect the location of the Meren's Solar Crystal in the shuttle?"

"Yes, Master. It is at the opposite end of this hallway,"

"You were leading us the wrong way, Doctor," Rose chided. He grinned sheepishly as the dog continued:

"Past the engine room, held in storage. There is one entrance to the room, and it is guarded by…" the mechanical dog's little ears whirred around and it made a slight chirping noise, it's databanks busily processing data from its scanners. "Two armed Sparten guards."

"It's a good thing I made those improvements to the Mark IV unit," the Doctor nodded sagaciously. "I amaze even myself sometimes."

"Oh yes, because you're just _so _smart, aren't you?" Rose laughed, playfully punching his arm.

The Doctor frowned just a little. That hadn't been a joke!

Major Eberbach's forehead creased into a serious frown as he studied them. "You should have planned for this beforehand."

"What and take all of the surprise out of life?" the Doctor asked, looking quite abashed.

The Major rolled his eyes and seemed to be taking pains to control his anger."Nevertheless," the German continued, his voice rather acidic in tone. "I suppose you haven't forgotten that the Screwdriver of yours has the ability to disrupt electrical circuits—"

"It does?"

"YOU'RE the one who explained it to US!" the Major roared.

"_Fantastic_!" the Doctor enthused. "Carry on,"

"If those…things…are robotic—" the Major gritted, looking ready to put his fist through someone.

"Cyborgs, actually, part organic life form melded with machine, but I think I follow you…I'll distract them and try to do what I can with the Sonic Screwdriver. Eroica can, in the meantime, use the Screwdriver I gave him to open the door to the storage room."

"I'll take K-9 and look out in case more of the Spartens start to head this way," Rose offered.

He stared at her for a moment. He just found himself caught in…the harsh electric lights from the ship's walls seemed to soften into a halo around her shining blonde hair, the long wisps fell so softly over her face. Her lips red, slightly parted, her eyes so large, so soft and innocent. She was…not like his companions from the past. She was a survivor, a fighter, vocal and determined and opinionated and strong, but she was also so…young. So human. So mortal.

"Wh—what…?" she asked, looking at him with a mixture of embarrassment and concern, smiling at him a bit nervously. "Doctor…?"

"I'll go," Major Eberbach interrupted their voiceless conversation with an impatient shake of his head. "'s not a job for a civilian." He drew his .44 magnum from his shoulder holster and loaded it.

"You know that isn't going to do any goo—" the Doctor trailed off. The Major really _was_ good at those imposing death-glares.

"I'll go with you," Rose said, looking a little put off by the whole 'civilian' comment. "I'm not just going to run around screaming and fainting, you know."

The Major's annoyance in this was clear, but it happened that the team was separated once again.

The Doctor and Eroica ventured back down the hallway, while the Major, Rose and the dog remained at the opposite end, only a few feet from where they had hidden the blue phone box.

Eroica sighed a little, twisting one of the ornate golden bracelets that adorned his wrists, standing out in sharp contrast to the sleek black catsuit he wore. The pearls Rose had mentioned earlier were looped loosely around his broad and surprisingly muscular shoulders, the Doctor hadn't even noticed them earlier, he thought, because the thief's flamboyant personality simply outdid whatever eccentric things he wore. Besides, it wasn't as though it bothered the Doctor, after all the worlds and ages and people (and people-like creatures) _he _had seen it would take a lot more than a homosexual human to make him bat an eye. And besides, in the past he had paraded around in his fair share of clothing articles falling into the 'eccentric' category.

"So you do this all the time then," the thief asked after a moment. "Travel around, find adventure…"

"Yep," he grinned. "Fantastic, isn't it?"

This earned him a dazzling hundred-watt smile. "Marvellous, darling. I just wish I'd brought a change of clothes," the Earl said wistfully, gesturing to where the fabric of the black suit had been torn by bullets, although the flesh beneath was hidden behind the white of gauze and bandages.

"Oh don't worry, we've got plenty of clothes on the TARDIS. Costumes for almost every world and era," he explained.

"_Fantastic_," Dorian echoed.

"Isn't it though?" the Doctor grinned as they approached a small doorway at the end of the hall. "Get ready now…"

Instantly, two of the enormous towering Sparten warriors appeared, each towering above the Earl and the Doctor, who were neither of them men of small stature, and each with repulsively bulging muscles that made their limbs seem disproportionate, hideously corded and inhuman. Masks covered whatever faces they might have had once, when they had been whatever they had been before Ristead had turned them into his weapons of destruction.

"Go for the door," the Doctor whispered, pulling out his Sonic Screwdriver. Turning to the Spartens, he instantly painted a wide grin on his face and sought to distract them. "Hello, old chaps. Don't mind me, just passing through…" he flashed the Sonic Screwdriver around as the machines advanced on him, and they faltered slightly, stumbling and making a low guttural noise that might have been a sign of pain. "Eroica!"

"It's open!" the thief declared, as the door slid open.

"Fantastic!" he tried to dodge past the stumbling androids, but one large meaty fist gripped his shoulder in a painfully bone-crunching grasp and he felt himself dragged backwards even as Eroica slipped through the doorway and disappeared.

"_Fan_tas_tic_," he muttered, putting on a bright smile for his captors, who probably couldn't see it anyways.

"Doctor!" a very familiar voice cried.

"Rose, stay back!" he shouted, knowing she would never listen to him, and felt a surge of panic at the thought of her charging headstrong into the two gargantuan killers, when a pair of gunshots rang clearly throughout the ship's hull.

The magnum's rounds could do nothing to injure the android warriors, but they _could_ distract them, the Doctor realized, as the brute clenching his trade-mark leather jacket abruptly released him in order to charge at Iron Klaus.

Quickly adjusting the frequency of the Sonic Screwdriver, the Doctor pointed it at the creature's legs and it crashed to the shuttle's hull with a reverberating bang.

"We have to get out of here!" Rose cried. "There's a million more of these guys coming!"

"Get back to the TARDIS, Rose!"

"Not without you!" she shouted.

He looked at her in one moment of unguarded panic. What if he couldn't save her? She was only nineteen… "Damn it, Rose! This—"

"Um, excuse me," a voice said just over his shoulder. "But why don't we _all _just get back to the TARDIS?" and the Doctor turned to see Eroica standing there, looking a bit smug, a magnificent diamond-like rock the size of a coffee-pot nestled in the crook of his arms.

The next moment, they were all running like mad down that same narrow corridor. "Where's the mutt?" the Doctor called as the explosions of laser and bullet fire striking the metal walls and floor behind them burst in their ears.

"He's trying to hold the rest back!" Rose called. "Away from the TARDIS!"

"If those cyborgs touch my time-ship—!"

He came to a sudden halt as they rounded the final corner. The TARDIS was safely wedged into a sort of closet, the small robot dog not five feet from its blue wooden doors, and a crowd of Spartens closing in around it.

"Your dog doesn't have much of a chance," the Major muttered. Somehow the man had already gotten a cigarette between his lips. The Doctor briefly wondered how any one could possibly run for his life through an alien space craft while dodging gun fire, shooting at cyborg warriors, defending his mates _and _simultaneously smoke a cigarette. Oh well, he always had been good at choosing his companions.

As they watched, so far undetected by the Spartens, K-9's eyes shone red and a blaster gun sprang from a compartment in his back and fired a thick red laser at the nearest Sparten. The creature fell backwards, a smouldering hole gaping in its chest.

"Now!" Major Eberbach thundered, pushing them forwards, straight through the mess of regrouping Spartens, stumbling over K-9, who swivelled around so quickly the Doctor nearly tripped over him, and right through the front doors of the TARDIS.

The instant they were inside, the Doctor leapt to the control centre and pulled the lever, flicking a handful of random switches. He didn't so much care where the TARDIS decided to take them, so long as it wasn't anywhere near Ristead. On second thought, he set the coordinates for Luinway and leant back. Oddly enough he was feeling a little tired from all the excitement. _I must be getting old…well…nine hundred…_

Sitting perched on one of the control desks across from him was Eroica, who was gleefully examining the Solar Crystal. "It's beautiful…" the thief breathed appreciatively, running a finger down the glittering cuts that shone with a radiating golden glow. "It's a shame those aliens need it to live," he sighed, clearly reluctant to hand it over to the Doctor.

"Trust me, there are much more interesting things in the universe than an old rock," he smirked, taking the diamond and tossing it in the air haphazardly. "For example…"

But he was interrupted by a loud and decidedly negative alarm that shrilled through ought he air of the TARDIS. "What is it, Doctor?" Rose asked. "She's never made a noise like this before."

"I don't know," he frowned, tossing the crystal-thing to the Major and leaning over the control centre. "Something's jamming the TARDIS' signal…we're being pulled off course."

"What? How?" she asked, wiping a strand of long blonde hair back from her face and joining him.

"Beats me, this…" he tried flicking some switches. No luck.

The TARDIS came to a lurching, shuddering halt, the walls groaning. He shuddered. This was not right.

"Where are we?" Dorian asked, looking towards the door.

"Don't know," he replied uneasily.

"When are we?" Rose asked, also peering tentatively at those wooden doors, which could lead to any time or place in the history of the universe.

"Don't know…" he breathed, gently rapping his knuckles along a couple of the many monitors and dials, all of which had gone completely blank. "Come on, old girl…"

"Should we go out and see…?" the Earl asked, one thin golden eyebrow piquing slightly. He exchanged a glance with the Major, who merely frowned deeply.

"Well, we won't find out anything sitting here!" Rose decided finally, heading towards the door.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, before he caught himself.

"What?" she asked, looking back at him.

He shook his head. "I'm coming with you."

A moment later, all five of them—the Doctor, Rose, Eroica, Major Eberbach, and K-9—stood outside the blue police box, in a strangely desolate and alien landscape. Smouldering ruins of buildings, decadent and crumbling into twisted heaps of rubble loomed around them, casting deep black shadows against the dead night air. Smoke and mist curled about the ground at their feet, sending familiar tingles down his spine.

It did not feel like a good place.

In the far distance rang a faint rattling sound that might have been military gunfire. The smell of burning and smoke and something rank…the vile smell of decay…choked the humid air.

"We're in a war-zone," the Major said matter-of-factly.

But he was not wrong.

In the shadows, creatures moved, groaning in pain. The Earl moved closer to one shifting form as their eyes adjusted to the gloom, reaching out a hand tentatively. "Do you need…"

The creature let out a hiss of pain and screeching, tore away from the Earl, bolting out into the dim light so that they could see it's filthy torn rags, and its uneven struggling gate as it's grotesquely deformed legs buckled beneath it. The Earl gasped, the Major, seemingly on instinct, drew his gun.

He thought he knew where they were. It was so familiar. The air, the rank smell of decay.

_Oh, God no._

"NO!" the Doctor cried suddenly, his face twisting around in a look of complete terror. "No, it can't be! It's not possible!" the terror bolted and shuddered straight through him, so he couldn't move or warn the others. "Run, get back! All of you!"

"What is it?" Eroica asked, blue eyes wide with alarm at the Doctor's panic.

"We shouldn't be here! It shouldn't be possible!" he couldn't think straight, couldn't get the words out, he felt his two hearts both racing and pounding in knots in his chest, staggering, overwhelmed with the sense of terror and dread. "We can't…we shouldn't…it shouldn't be possible…" he had to tell them, had to warn them. "GET BACK! BACK IN THE TARDIS, RIGHT NOW!"

"Doctor…" Rose whispered. Yes, she knew, he thought, she had seen him this upset once before…and now her eyes were growing wide with comprehension and the ensuing terror… "Oh my God, it can't be…"

They turned back to the TARDIS. But it was gone.

He felt the horrible coldness spreading over both hearts, his blood racing and curdling like ice-water in his veins. He shuddered, and turned back to them, unable to speak.

"What is it?" Eroica repeated, a little more nervously this time, looking from Rose to the Doctor.

"They'll kill us all!" he muttered. He couldn't, couldn't say it. Felt his limbs shaking, God when was the last time he'd been this terrified of anything?

And then, from the shadowy pits of darkness at the far corners of the rubble came the unmistakable, blood curdling shrill cry: "Intruders! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

**To be Continued in Episode 06: The Discordance of the Daleks**


	6. Episode 06: Discordance of the Daleks

**Episode 06: The Discordance of the Daleks**

"Do not move! Do not move! You are prisoners! You are prisoners!"

"Intruders! Intruders!"

"Exterminate! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach had never heard anything with which to compare their shrill, bitterly screeching voices. Voices that were entirely inhuman, mechanical, and yet somehow so soaked with an emotion—hatred, vehemence—that it sent a cold chill racing down his spine. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

In all of the years he had served in NATO, even endangering his life at gunpoint, Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach had _never _felt the sort of sickening disconcerting feeling that the horrible voices sent racing through his blood.

He tightened his grip on the magnum automatically.

Beside him, Rose had turned white, large brown eyes as wide and glassy as a frightened deer's. The Doctor stood beside her, seemingly frozen, his face twisted into a mask of raw and honest terror. The two who had so blithely pranced into the throes of danger, travelling through space and time with no regard for anything whatsoever, were suddenly frozen with what appeared to be true and genuine horror.

And, as those horrible, shrill and bitingly high-pitched voices grew nearer, Major Eberbach, who had to repress a shudder at the ear-splitting shrieks, thought he might have understood.

"We must EXTERMINATE the irregularities! Inferior life forms detected in Sector J-5. Intruders! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

And there was that damnable thief, looking now more frightened, seemingly due to the Doctor's evident upset more than anything else. And the TARDIS was missing. Just vanished. The smell of sulphur and gunpowder, rot and decay thickly blanketed the still air. The smouldering ruins of land that had once been a city, and was now a war zone, surrounded them. At the Major's feet, the robotic dog's satellite-ears twisted around on its head and it made a low whirring sound, almost a growl, its thin metal tail standing on end.

"Daleks are approaching, Master."

"No!" Rose gasped. "They CAN'T be! Doctor!"

Dorian looked from her to the Doctor, long tumbles of golden curls splaying over his shoulders as he shook his head from side to side in confusion. "What's a Dalek? Doctor? Rose? Why are you so—"

He froze in mid-sentence as the creatures came out of the shadows. Impossible to describe. Klaus swallowed. They were truly the most freakishly un-human things he could ever have remembered seeing. They were about five-feet tall, their identical metal casings pepper-pot shaped shells, seemingly housing _something_, which moved over the broken terrain on treads.

From the front, each Dalek bore a plunger and a rifle-like stick protruding from it's metal casing, the limbs jerked about mechanically. The tops, one could not rightly call them 'heads' for they lacked anything which the Major might have considered a face, were rounded domes, with a single eyestalk each, glowing a harsh laser-like blue, inexplicably horrid as they shifted and jerked about, violent in even the smallest of movements.

They were so utterly bizarre, that for a moment even the Major quite forgot the gun clutched in his iron grip. Their…eyes? lenses?…so alien, blank piercing orbs, were utterly devoid of emotion, yet glared with a sort of fierce and scrutinizing intelligence that was in no way reassuring. The eyestalks moved and stretched forwards, raising and lowering as they adjusted and focused on the group before them.

Even Klaus felt his skin begin to crawl under their gaze.

"Inferior life-forms detected."

"You are prisoners!"

"EXTERMINATE!"

"EXTERMINATE!"

And they just stood there, frozen, none of them moving or breathing or even thinking, really. Until Eroica's voice finally made its way through to his brain, wavering and laced with a trepidation strangely alien to the carefree thief. "Major…"

"Damn it," Klaus snapped back, raising the magnum at the same time the Daleks were preparing to fire from their gun-arms.

He squeezed the trigger.

Laser fire ripped through the air, burning a smoking crater deep into the earth centimetres from Klaus' right foot, and his own bullets raced towards the metal casing of the Dalek shells, but seemed to dissolve in midair before reaching their targets.

"They have a force-field around the body," the Doctor muttered. "Bullets aren't going to do any damage!"

"Doctor, we have to get out of here!" Rose shouted, as laser fire erupted, sending K-9 skidding sharply backwards, just narrowly avoiding incineration.

"Aim for the eyestalk!" the Doctor told Klaus quickly. "Rose, Eroica—run! NOW!"

The Dalek's eye swivelled towards them, the rifle-arm raised, and in that split-second, Klaus fired. The glowing blue orb exploded in a shattering rain of glass and metal splinters. The Dalek's body shuddered and jerked almost wildly. The other two, which had come up behind it, turned their solitary eyes towards the Major.

"Do not move. Do not move. You are prisoners."

"Intruders, we must exterminate."

"Inferior life forms."

"Affirmative," the thin mechanical voices grated out.

"Damn it," Klaus cursed, involuntarily backing away a step as the creatures advanced, swivelling across the uneven terrain on their flat treads. He felt the momentary shock as he collided with the Earl, and risked a quick glance from the corner of his eye, to see Eroica still standing there behind him, sapphire eyes round and wide, staring at the aliens as though in shock.

Rose Tyler stood a few feet behind him, looking terrified, ready to run, but hesitating on the Earl's account.

The Major began to move, but started when a shrill ringing blast echoed in his ears and a spray of dirt burst up an inch from his feet. K-9's ears twisted around, the red eye-band flashing. "Master—!" The loyal robot instantly fired a volley of brilliant red lasers towards the encroaching Daleks, but it seemed to have little affect as their enemies continued to advance.

Scowling, Klaus turned and shoved Eroica roughly, just barely able to restrain himself from knocking the thief off his feet. "Eroica! Go! Now!" He knocked the Earl down with one final shove—sending the thief behind an overturned slab of rubble as the enemy fire swept over them again.

Ducking to the right, the Major squeezed off two more shots from his trusted magnum, and heard the satisfying sound of another of the glass eyepieces shattering and the inhuman shrieks of the damaged alien that followed.

He could not know what had become of the Doctor or the girl, they had vanished from his now-limited realm of sight as the sky dimmed and the laser fire sent thick dark sprays of dirt up, clouding the air. A curtain of smoke and the scent of burning rubble were enough to obscure most of his senses.

Dropping low to the ground for a second, Klaus reloaded the gun and hazarded another quick glance in the direction of where he had knocked Eroica down. Hopefully at least the damn fop would have the sense to stay out of the way _this_ time.

_And why the fuck did he care, again? _Like he had on the space station, the Major could not stop himself from…he did care about the bloody degenerate, it seemed. Care…the Major swallowed.

Ah, it was hardly the opportune time to properly deal with such thoughts. But out of the corner of his eye, he could make out the shaky blur of Eroica's wild golden curls slipping away—retreating back, farther from the Daleks and the steady rain of enemy fire.

And that was good.

The Major turned his focus back to the problems at hand. Aliens, robots (were they robots? Or was that outer shell some sort of bizarre alien armour? And to _what_? There was no possible way that a human man could fit inside one of those metal casings—) and his bullets could not, for whatever stupid reason, hit the main bodies, so he was restricted to trying to take out the single bulbous lenses that served as the Daleks' eyes.

From his crouching position, Klaus tightened his grip on the reloaded gun and grimaced. Although the grimace was almost a smile. The danger felt more real—more intense and poignant—than it had in a long time, even against the KGB. The complete and utter impossibility of the situation at hand, yet the definite danger it entailed, had the Major's blood racing.

_Perhaps the damn thief was right,_ he conceded grudgingly, somewhere in the back of his mind, _perhaps this _was _missing before._

The Daleks' mechanical limbs jerked back and forth again, the creatures shuddering slightly, sensors whirring as they prepared for another strike. Klaus leapt up, fired off another six shots, before dropping back down into a defensive crouch behind an overturned smouldering heap of slag, much like the one he had knocked the Earl behind.

On the other side, he could hear the inhuman voices screeching: "My vision is impaired. I can not see. I can not see."

"Exterminate. Intruders must be exterminated!"

"My vision is impaired. I can not see. Unable to comply."

The Major allowed a small smirk to work its way across his face.

"How are we doing?" a voice asked suddenly, startlingly close to his ear.

"God damn it" Klaus growled, as the Doctor crouched down beside him. "You are almost as bad as that insufferable thief."

"Who is safe, by the way,"

Klaus glared at him, but the Doctor kept going all the same. "Look—he and Rose are both safe, well as safe as they can be in this situation. They've run off, got at least ten yards on us by now." K-9 was there, by their feet, scanners working overtime to pinpoint the locations of the Daleks that had surrounded them.

"We must exterminate inferior life forms."

"Unable to comply. My vision is impaired." The Dalek's continued to fire, even with impaired sight, the laser fire bursting against the rubble in wild chaotic explosions all around the Doctor and the Major.

"So what do you propose _we _do?" the Major growled, ducking his head as a chunk of earth exploded in a rain of shrapnel and smoke inches from his skull. "Never mind, you are an idiot."

"_I'm _an idiot!" the Doctor retorted indignantly, even as an explosion of laser-fire burst over their heads. "I could have run off with them, you know!"

"Then you should have! For all the use you are!" the Major snapped. "All your alien gadgetry and you don't have a damn _gun_!"

"My vision is impaired."

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

"I don't like weapons, so I don't use them!" the Doctor shouted back, seeming genuinely angry for the first time since the Major had met him. "And despite what you may think _Major _Klaus Heinz —whatever your name is—_I _KNOW what war is! Whatever you may think, I'VE lived through a HELL of a lot more of it than YOU!"

Klaus was on the verge of either ripping the man's throat out, or at least breaking his jaw, when they both realized the same thing at the same time.

Silence.

The weapon fire had stopped.

The hiss of the still-smoking rubble that had shielded them during the assault and their own somewhat laboured breathes were the only noises. The hard mechanical voices of the Daleks had ceased, the ringing blasts of the lasers had vanished.

The Doctor looked down to K-9 for some explanation. "There is no longer any trace of the Daleks within twenty yards from our present location, Master."

The Major frowned, the Doctor looked intensely worried.

"This can't be good," Klaus said.

"Indeed. Even damaged and blinded, the Daleks would have stayed to the very end, until they had achieved their objective. Suicide missions mean nothing to them, and no offence, Major, but I don't think we were that much of a threat, anyways."

Klaus pulled out a cigarette, scowling darkly, "But they left. I don't like this."

"No," the Doctor agreed, his face tight and sober. "Not at all."

"Master, my scanners detect several sentient life forms approaching," K-9 informed them.

"Could the Daleks be running away from something?" Klaus asked, looking at the Doctor.

"Impossible!" he shook his head, frowning deeply. "The Daleks are one of the most feared races in the universe. And there are very few weapons that can harm them, and nothing that can instil an emotion—let alone fear—in them," he sighed. "They must be regrouping or something. Maybe their leaders called them back for something…"

"Are their leaders are—?"

"Also Daleks, of course," the Doctor answered.

Klaus regarded the Doctor for a moment, breathing in the smoke of his cigarette and crouching on the smouldering rubble-ridden ground beside K-9. "What are they, exactly? Daleks?"

The Doctor smiled bitterly. "I guess you could call them my mortal enemy." He leaned back against a jagged heap of slag, his eyes darkened by the cruel shadows of the past. "First of all, you have to know: the Daleks are utterly ruthless, merciless killers. They have no pity, no sympathy. What you see is just the armour, the transportation device. What it houses is so hideous…a mutant. The final evolution of a race that was at one time much like your own. In order to survive in their mutated forms, building the transportation devices was obviously a necessity. But…"

"They became killers."

The Doctor nodded grimly. "The Daleks—the transportation shells—were created during a war so they needed to be capable of fighting, and killing. However their creator took that one step further…by erasing all sense of pity or sympathy, to ensure that his creations would be capable of killing all of their enemies…the 'inferior races.'

"They exist only to kill and destroy and strengthen their own forces. They will kill millions and millions—all other life-forms, because they honestly believe those life-forms should be dead."

"Ethnic cleansing," the Major muttered darkly, flicking his cigarette into the dirt. It was a term he was all-too familiar with. The Daleks were little different from the God-damn neo-Nazis. Well, at least they weren't German, but the parallels were…he felt himself grimace.

"The Daleks enslaved hundreds, thousands of planets, before they were finally defeated. This must be any one of those worlds that were conquered by their military forces."

"You say 'before they were defeated,'"

"The Daleks fought a war with my people, the Time Lords."

"The Time Lords won?"

"No," the Doctor said, staring into the rising columns of smoke and shadows in the darkening sky. "Both lost. The Daleks were defeated. All ten million enemy ships were destroyed. But Gallifrey…my planet…and the Time Lords…were destroyed.

"I am the last survivor of my race.

"Except for, perhaps, the bloke who's after us." He smiled bitterly, eyes closed.

The Major was silent. It seemed only respectful, and he could respect a veteran soldier. Even a soldier from a war he could not imagine. Not that he truly needed to, the darkness and pain in the Doctor's eyes, the shadows haunting the lines on his face, spoke all-too clearly of the horrors of war.

"I used to hate them too," the Doctor continued suddenly. "The Time Lords, I mean. They were a bunch of pompous idiots—I couldn't stand them and they couldn't stand me! Said I had no respect for authority, but their authority was bloody stupid!"

Klaus smirked a little at this, lighting another cigarette.

"But then…to have them all gone. For it all…"

_Yes, _Klaus thought he could see that, too. As much as he hated his idiot superiors at NATO, especially that fat perverted chief, if NATO itself was destroyed, completely and utterly destroyed…he couldn't even think of it in terms of the entire Earth…

"So we're somewhere in the past, then?" he asked quietly, at length, grinding out the ashes of his third cigarette into the ground beside him. "Before this war?"

"Yes…" the Doctor frowned. "Sometime before the Time Wars, on one of the small anonymous worlds the Dalek forces enslaved. I would never have come back here, we should never have even been able to come here, after what happened during the Time Wars…someone put us here. Someone powerful."

"The one behind Ristead and the Spartens and even the bloody KGB…"

The Doctor nodded. "Someone who really, truly hates us, it would seem."

"_Ja_…"

"Masters," K-9 interrupted, his metal head perking up a bit, the satellite-ears rotating and whirring distinctly. "Sentient life-forms now within five-feet of our current location."

"Thank you, K-9," the Doctor sighed, picking himself up off the ground. "Well, shall we say hello to the locals, do you think? I imagine they'll be a decent-sort of folk. After all, the enemy-of-my-enemy, and all that…"

"Freeze!" a voice commanded instantly, and the Doctor and Klaus found themselves surrounded by a dozen men in tattered, stained rags, a collection of motley and damaged guns and rifles pointed at their heads. "Who are you?" the leader demanded.

"Who cares?" one of his companions said, lowering his weapon. "They aren't Daleks, that's clear enough."

"They could be allied with the Daleks,"

"_No one_'s allied with the Daleks," his comrade retorted. "Who'd be daft enough to do that?"

"Well…all right, then," the leader consented, lowering his own rifle-like weapon, and his group immediately did the same. "My name is Farr," he said, turning back to Klaus and the Doctor. "We are the Renell."

"The Renell?" the Doctor asked. "Ah…then this must be Ren III, in the Chaia Galaxy around your…nineteenth century, isn't it?"

This earned them more than a few odd looks, but Farr eventually nodded, regarding the Doctor uneasily.

"I thought so," the Doctor grinned. "My history is perfect."

Eyebrows were raised.

"And…who are you, then?" Farr asked.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Major Eberbach. We're…ah…not from around here."

"A doctor and an officer? Are you from the Roktarr military?"

"Roktarr military?"

"Our allies, they promised to send in forces to help us combat the Dalek invaders, but that was months ago and we've seen no sign of them. As you can see, Doctor, things are bad here…very bad."

"Yes, indeed," the Doctor replied, taking another look around the ruined city. "I take it you've been fighting the Daleks for some time now?"

"Ha!" Farr laughed bitterly. "Only a few months! They've got us completely outnumbered and their weapons are like nothing we've ever seen before! Red lights that strike a man dead with one touch! And their warships are everywhere, they just appeared one day out of the blue and suddenly—they were everywhere! There's nothing we can do!"

"What do you mean 'nothing,'" Klaus interrupted, scowling at them darkly. "It's that sort of useless thinking that is going to hand the victory to your enemies! Doctor, we have no time for such worthless idiots, we would do best to find Miss Tyler and Lord Gloria and locate the TARDIS at once!

"If these fools _truly_ wanted to get rid of the Daleks, they would have organized an affective group and chain of command with a centralized location, catalogue of the weapons and supplies available, maps of the city and surrounding areas with the Dalek-landing sights highlighted and…"

"It sounds like you have a strategy or two up your sleeve, Major," Farr said.

Klaus snorted. "Show me what you have so far."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Wait!" Dorian called after Rose, as she ran ahead of him. They had raced through the grim, greying rubble of the war-torn city and the Major, the Daleks and the Doctor had long-since vanished behind them. The Earl probably wanted some answers.

_Great._

"Rose, wait! And kindly tell me what's going on?"

She slowed down reluctantly, stumbling to a shaky halt beside the ruined skeletal structure of what had once been a building of four stories. The windows had been blown out, and were reduced to empty gaping holes. The paint had been burned off, so that only crumbling cement remained, and large holes tore jagged edges through the rubble, so that it looked as though at any given moment the entire structure might simply give-way and collapse to the dust. Her heart hammering painfully and her lungs burning from the run, she gestured hastily to the sloping empty doorway. "Let's duck in there, then."

"To what end?" the Earl asked, rearranging some of his dishevelled golden curls and studying her face curiously. "Rose, I don't understand what's happening here." It was annoying, but the master thief did not look very exhausted by their run. He was hardly even sweating.

She glared at him in annoyance. "To _hide_!"

"Hide? From those—tin garbage cans? Listen, _you _might be used to playing the damsel in distress but I certainly don't—"

"You just don't get it do you! Those things are—are—"

"Daleks, right? I still don't see why they're so much more terrible than the Spartens or the KGB or the dinosaurs—"

"Dinosaurs?"

"My point is—"

"They just _are, _okay? They—last time there was only one of them and _it _killed—God it killed them all!" she turned from him, raking a hand through her long blonde hair in frustration, and began pacing back and forth. "There were all of these soldiers, and they all had their guns special vests and everything and it just—like they were nothing—"

"They're that bad?" the Earl asked, a worried expression flitting across his face. "We shouldn't have left, then!" he turned back in the direction they had come from. "The Major—!"

"Don't—!" she grabbed his arm, and he looked at her with annoyance and a rare flash of anger. "They'll KILL you!"

"They've never had to deal with me," Eroica replied coolly.

"This is serious!" she cried again, trying to pull him back.

"So am I," he replied evenly. "What about you? Aren't you worried about the Doctor?"

"The Doctor can take care of himself!" she snapped back. But instantly, she saw in her mind's eye the twisted, horrified and malicious look that had taken over the Doctor's features in Van Statten's museum, when he had been confronted with just _one _Dalek. Now…she was suddenly unsure, and bit her lip, worry for the Doctor flooding into her chest, compounding the horror she had instinctively felt surge through her at the sight of the Dalek forces.

It was too much…too much… "I—I don't know…"

_No. _

She was not that weak. She had saved the Doctor's life before, just as he had saved hers. This time, she told herself, swallowing the lump that had been building in her throat, would be no different. Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to look up and meet the Earl's gaze with steadfast determination.

"Alright," she agreed. "Let's go back, then."

"I can see you're afraid. You don't have to come." It wasn't spoken with the mocking-tone she might have expected, but rather with genuine sympathy. And she wasn't sure whether that made her feel comforted or annoyed her, so she brushed ahead past the thief without another word, and began walking back to where they had left their companions…

The place was deserted when they reached it. Rose looked around in frustration, brushing long strands of blonde hair from her face. "Doctor!" she called. "He has a habit of wandering off and getting into trouble wherever we go…" she paused, biting her lip, and turned back to Dorian. "You don't think…?"

"There isn't any blood," Eroica replied, his gaze tracing the ground and surrounding debris carefully. "And these other footprints in the dirt here look more human than Dalek…"

"Good. So. Then. We just have to find them, right?" she asked, gesturing a little with her arms.

Dorian smiled. "I'm sure they'll be okay. They're amazing chaps, really. Your Doctor and my Major."

"So, do you just want to wait here for them, then? Or find some shelter?" she asked.

"I suppose it might not be wise to wait around out here in the open in this sort of place," the Earl agreed, surveying the ruined city once more. "So depressing, really," he murmured. "War lacks all sense of aesthetics, don't you think? Such a waste…I wonder what it looked like before…"

Together, they picked their way across the ruins and ventured a few feet into one of the near-collapsed buildings. They sat on the ground with their backs against the cold cement walls. "We shouldn't have gotten separated again, what a pain…" Eroica mused. "I suppose it won't do any good to go around looking for them, I don't think I would care to run into another group of those Daleks, not with just the two of us, anyways."

"No…" Rose murmured in agreement. "But I can't stand this waiting around…" she picked a piece of rubble out of her hair and flicked it away, turning to regard the thief once more. "Listen…I want to apologize for if I seemed…nasty, when we first met."

"Do not dwell on it," the Earl murmured, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed as though he were dozing. He looked quite serene, actually, as though they weren't in the slightest bit of danger, stranded and alone on a Dalek-infested alien planet. "After all, all that we do is fleeting…in the golden light of the morrow today's troubles will be but memories…"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you _always _have to be like that?"

"Like what?" he asked, giving her the perfect look of wounded innocence.

"All aristocratic and snobbish!"

"Snobbish? _Moi_? What a vulgar term, I am merely a poetic spirit," Eroica replied, touching a hand to his chest in a moment of solemnity before breaking out into a wide grin. "Honestly, Miss Tyler, we may be stranded here for some time. It would be nice if we could pass it without fighting for a few hours, don't you think?"

She smiled slightly and shook her head at him, but it wasn't a 'no.' "Alright then, let's be civil to each other, shall we?" she grinned. "We'll call it a truce, then."

Eroica blinked. "I didn't know we were at war."

The silence lengthened between them. The thick grey shadows which hung heavily overhead were slowly eaten away by the thick blackness of night, and the air became cold, although the smell of distant fires burning still carried on the wind. The old ruined building creaked and moaned around them, and Rose shifted uncomfortably, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I hate this, you know?"

"Completely. It's so terribly dull. If we were somewhere familiar—"

"You mean Earth?" she grinned.

He smiled. "I would have made off long ago. Or at least gone to see if there was anything worth stealing in the neighbourhood."

"I know. But it's so…"

"Alien,"

"But that's the fun of it, though,"

"Completely," he laughed.

"But, I still miss my family, you know…Mickey, and my mum…" she said, tilting her head to one side, long blonde hair spilling over her shoulder as she studied the Earl's profile.

"Mickey?" Eroica asked, one golden eyebrow piquing with some interest.

"My boyfriend," she murmured, feeling her face flush slightly at the memory of her sweet but nerveless sweetheart.

"Boyfriend?" Dorian asked, sounding quite like he didn't believe her. "What about the Doctor?"

Rose felt her face instantly burn, like it always did when people thought she and the Doctor were together. WHY did everyone think they were a couple? It was getting painful to have to deny it every single time.

"The Doctor and I are NOT a couple!" she practically shouted. "He—why he isn't even human for one thing. And the age difference is astronomical…"

"Love can conquer such trivial things, supposedly…" the romantic Englishman mused, twirling one of his golden curls around one finger with a bemused expression on his face.

"ANYWAY," Rose coughed loudly, wanting very much to AVOID the topic of her relationship with the Doctor for the moment. Her own feelings on the subject were quite painful enough without discussing them. Dreaming for an impossible romance…what was she, a fourteen year old? She shook her head however, unable to stop herself from thinking about how it had felt when the Doctor had told her she was beautiful, and the warm glow it brought back to her cheeks as she heard his voice in her memory.

"Rose…?" the Earl asked, sounding a bit concerned.

"Uh—right—anyways—let's um…where were we? Oh right, my mum—I miss her terribly sometimes," she said hurriedly. "We fight awfully and she's a bit barmy, and a downright pain at times. She flirts with everyone, even my boyfriends! It's downright scary sometimes, I swear she thinks she's still in her twenties!

"But she was terrified the first time I left…I'll never forget the look on her face when I came home and she thought I was dead.

"What about you?" she asked, looking at the Earl. "Do you have any family you miss?"

"Oh yes," the Earl smiled fondly. "My poor little James…that's my accountant…the poor dear must be positively hysterical by now. And Bonham, and Jones…all my boys. I wonder what they're doing now? Wondering where I am? They aren't _too _worried, I hope. Not to the point where they think me _dead _yet, at any rate."

"Oh…" Rose replied. It hadn't been quite what she meant, and she looked at the Earl curiously. It would probably be good manners to drop the subject rather than press. But, well, she was sure that by this time there were plenty of people and aliens in the universe who could vouch for her lack of social etiquette. Besides, the Earl had asked her an uncomfortable question, bringing up her relationship with the Doctor. So, she pressed: "But don't you have any _family_? Your dad and your mum?"

Besides, she was bored, and it couldn't be anything _that _bad, he was a rich aristocrat after all. He had, no doubt been spoiled rotten as a child!

So she was unprepared for the brief flash of a raw pained and the stony expression that flitted across the Earl's smooth features. It was only there for one brief, unguarded instant, before it was replaced quickly with one of the Earl's usual sunny smiles.

But it had been there.

An almost frightened look.

"Well, my father passed away a few years ago…" the Prince of Thieves shrugged, although Rose thought the sunny smile then appeared slightly dimmed. "I miss him…wherever I am…whether here, or back on Earth."

"Oh…I know how you feel. My father also…I'm sorry for bringing it up," she sighed, toying with a strand of hair.

"All that we do is fleeting, gone in an instant," he smiled wistfully, peering up through his golden curls towards the black night sky. "We can't see the stars here," he mused quietly, and after a moment, returned his gaze back to her, although the sapphire eyes seemed focused on some distant point not really there. "You're lucky, that somewhere out there, you have a mother who is worried about you, waiting for you to come home."

She looked at him curiously, but it didn't feel right to say anything. He had a strangely distant look in his eyes as he smiled at her. "A mother's love is supposedly one of the most beautiful things in the world. Or so I've read."

Rose watched him silently, with wide eyes. This was a side of Eroica she had not seen before. Gone, were the thief's gleeful overtures and masks of frivolity. And for that one silent moment, the pomp of the cosmopolitan aristocrat and the debonair grace were also shed, and Dorian was just another human being, like herself, with old long faded scars of sadness resting in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "For whatever happened. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, or anything."

"No, it's nothing," the thief smiled, looking at her again with the mask of blazing happiness once more firmly in place. "Old things, I've long forgotten. Water under the bridge, as they say. Besides, I guess it should hardly come as any surprise that I'm not exactly the 'ideal son' for trying to conserve a family bloodline, hmm? Your mother may embarrass you with her barmy antics, but it beats being locked in a dirty old tower all alone for hours on end, let me tell you!"

It was said lightly, with a smile and a good-natured laugh, but Rose noticed that the blue eyes weren't quite so bright as they should have been, and she herself, suddenly felt like a heel.

She had just assumed, since they had first met, that the Earl had grown up spoiled and pampered with all of the advantages the rich received and normal folks like she and her mother, living in their tiny apartment in London, could only dream about. She'd never even thought to consider what should have been obvious—the personal and social ramifications of Dorian's lifestyle. If she considered how homophobic and intolerant a lot of people were in the year 2005, she could only imagine what it must have been like decades earlier, in the Earl's time. He could not be the airhead she had seen at first glance, she realized, because an airhead would never have bothered to follow his heart when that simple choice proved to be so unfairly difficult. If he was an airhead, he would have taken the easy way out and at least pretended to be straight, normal. 'Someone to continue the family bloodline…'

She swallowed, suddenly feeling terrible. Even if she did fight with her own mother at almost every opportunity, and the woman nearly drove her mad with her flirting and immaturity, Rose had never once in her life felt like her mother didn't _love _her.

"Rose? Rose, are you alright? You look a touch ill," the Earl was gently shaking her shoulder, looking quite concerned. "How are you, dear? Not dehydrated, I hope? Do feel faint?"

"I—I'm fine," she answered uneasily, _I just haven't been thinking about you as a fellow human being since we've met—! God, _she bit her lip. "She didn't _really _lock you in the tower did she?"

Eroica merely laughed and moved to stand up, stretching his back and arms as he did so. "Don't worry about silly happenings from the past, my dear! Besides, my father always came to let me out again. I had the most wonderful father. It wasn't as though my life was _that _bad!" he laughed, gesturing with one hand as though to clear away her concerns.

"Now if you don't mind, I have had _quite _enough of this senseless and dreary waiting! If I didn't know better I would say that those two were meaning to leave us here—although I doubt your Doctor would ever do that to you—what do you say we go find them? By this point I don't much _care _whether we run into those dreadful garbage cans—"

"Daleks," she corrected, giggling.

"Daleks," Eroica grinned, "_Anything _is preferable to this insufferable _waiting_!"

"Agreed!" Rose nodded, dusting the grey dirt and rubble from her sweater as she stood beside him.

"Well, shall we?" Eroica asked, offering her his arm with a quite exaggerated show.

"Why, Lord Gloria, I thought you'd never ask!" she giggled, taking his arm, as they made their way out of the ruins and back into the Dalek-enslaved metropolis.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It did not take long for Farr to lead the Doctor and Major Eberbach to the shoddily constructed shelter that the surviving Renell had constructed beneath the city-streets. They had constructed trench-like passageways, partly from existing tunnels that might have once served as sewers or a subway system, with more tunnels and escape-routes hastily dug out, clumps of dark earth supported with shaky wooden rafters and slipping buttresses. The central meeting place where the survivors stored their weapons and supplies was also located directly beneath an old factory which, the alien informed them, housed highly explosive chemical materials.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see Major Eberbach regarding the shoddy work with an unimpressed scowl, but at the same time, the officer appeared to be enjoying the obvious danger of the situation, the atmosphere and danger of the approaching warfare. By 'enjoying,' of course, the Doctor meant that he merely noted a hard glint in the German's green eyes and a slight twitch upwards at the corners of his mouth.

"So, what have we got here?" the Doctor asked, turning back to Farr and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "These are the most ruthless creatures in the universe we're dealing with here, you had better have something for us to work with!"

The Major was, in the mean time, intently studying the maps the Renell hastily retrieved for him. He already had them scurrying about in fright and following his orders, the Doctor noted this with some amazement. It seemed at least one of them was in his element.

"You! Bring me the plans for these tunnels. And you! Don't just stand around gawking like an idiot! I want a list of the points the Daleks have established stations at, as well as a complete account of the supplies stored here and…"

The Doctor shook his head and ventured a ways farther down the tunnel, poking about until he practically collided with a short dark-haired girl. She was pale and thin, streaks of dirt marking a sharp contrast to her pale face. Wide brown eyes looked up at him in startled fright, but he had on his usual manic grin, which seemed to put her at ease. "Hello there, I was wondering if you could show me were you keep the weapons?"

When she smiled nervously, he thought it best to add: "The really, really BIG weapons."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I wish we knew what happened to the TARDIS," Rose continued, as she teetered uncertainly on one jagged piece of rubble before jumping off and landing beside Eroica. "Check the TARDIS key the Doctor gave you," she told him, pulling her own small silver key from the pocket of her jeans.

The keys lay in their hands, flat and cool and perfectly ordinary. Dorian raised an eyebrow at her. "Are they _supposed _to be doing something?"

She sighed. "When the TARDIS is nearby, they glow."

"Oh. Then this isn't a good sign, is it?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"What do you think, K-9?" the Doctor asked, hoisting an enormous black and silver cannon up onto his shoulder. "It's not dalekanium, but do you think this'll do the trick?"

A little antennae equipped with a small round red disk stretched out of the robot dog's eye band and towards the weapon. K-9 paused for a moment as his data banks scanned the equipment before the mechanical voice chirped: "Affirmative, Master. If a direct shot is fired upon a Dalek at a range of 6 meters there is 87.592 chance of resulting in irreparable damage to that Dalek. There is 92.345 margin of error in that calculation. Approximately."

"Thank you, K-9. Now I want you to go and find Rose and Lord Gloria, and bring them back to this shelter, alright?"

"Affirmative, Master."

"Oh, and K-9?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Be careful."

"I am familiar with Daleks, Master. I have been programmed with data files from—"

"Yes, yes, what I meant was—don't get yourself incinerated."

"Understood, Master. That would impair my ability to locate Master Gloria and Miss Tyler," the dog's ears twisted around once, twice, and then it skidded sharply backwards and twisted around, trundling off, its pointed silver tail sticking out behind it.

The Doctor shook his head. He couldn't decide whether or not it had been a good idea to build the fourth K-9 unit. Every time he looked at him, it brought back memories of faces no more to be seen, previous companions who had left him, disappeared into the sands of time and the vastness of the universe, that he would never see again. Leela, Sarah Jane and Harry, Romana…but he had seen Romana again, hadn't he? His dearest friend, fellow Time Lord, in the end she had become the president of Gallifrey…but Gallifrey, the Time Lords, Romana, Leela…they were all gone.

He gripped the heavy cannon over his shoulder tightly, taking one deep, shuddering breath. Gone, because of the Daleks. Now he _was _the only wanderer in the Fifth dimension…except perhaps…he thought of what that rat Ristead had told them, and then the TARDIS...

"What IS going on here?" he muttered darkly, distracted as Major Eberbach stormed in. The Major was scowling darkly, and looked ready to strangle someone, but was settling for smoking another cigarette instead. So in other words, the situation was under control and they had a solid plan, the Doctor mused.

"Morons! They have NO survival instincts whatsoever! According to what they've told me, the Dalek army has been searching these tunnels in a slowly widening circle for weeks now. If they continue this pattern the Daleks should be on top of us in HOURS, if not sooner! And these idiots didn't even think to MOVE!"

The Doctor almost pointed out that the Renell really had no where left to move _to_, and weren't a species that was accustomed to warfare, hence their alliance with the mysteriously not-present Roktarr military. But then he decided it really wasn't worth the effort, and merely watched the Major continue his rant.

"I got the idiots to set up explosives along the inner walls of the tunnels. Hopefully, we can trap some of the Daleks underground. Then, we move to the abandoned factory above us, also lined with explosives—"

"The one that's filled with combustible chemicals?"

"If we can trigger a large enough explosion, Farr seems to think we could get the attention of the Roktarr military that's supposed to be coming. Their other forms of communication have been shut down since the invasion. It could be used as a sort of S.O.S. signal."

"Alright, so we lure the Daleks into the factory and then blow the entire mess sky-high. Here, take this," the Doctor added, shifting the alien cannon from his shoulder and tossing it to the Major. "The recoil's deadly, but not, I suppose, to a man who can fire a Magnum with just one hand."

The Major snorted. "And you?"

"I'll live. But I'm more worried about Dorian and Rose. I told K-9 to find them and bring them back _here_."

The Major's expression suddenly changed to the utterly blank mask which seemed to jump up whenever the thief was in danger. A mask of guarded concern? The Doctor wondered. "I'm sure they'll be fine. K-9 makes a good guard-dog."

"Sir! Lookout says the Daleks are coming this way," one of the Renell cried, running up to them.

The Doctor couldn't help scowling a bit. _He'd _travelled all over the universe for centuries and people had never called _him _sir. They'd usually been too busy trying to kill him. Shoot him, or stab him, or blow him into tiny bits, or dissect him…

The Major was busy giving the Renell a series of orders. The Doctor didn't really listen, but the dark clouds of memories were once more rolling in over his mind. He had to fight to keep his mind, his emotions, under control. He refused to lose control again, as he very nearly had in Van Statten's museum.

They would get through this. And they would leave.

Somehow.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dorian started as Rose screamed, and the ground jolted out sharply from beneath his feet. The towering buildings looming above them creaked and shuddered, thick columns of grey dirt slid down from the walls and ceilings, bursting into great dark clouds as chunks of ceilings and walls crashed to the ground around them.

"Rose!" Dorian shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her back in time to narrowly escape a giant piece of crumbling mortar that slammed into the earth, exploding into a thick burst of shards and debris.

"Uh…thanks," she gasped, brushing her hair from her face. "What's happening?"

Dorian's eyes grew wide. In the sky, racing towards them, were the burning, spiraling lights of missiles, columns of smoke tailing out behind them. For a moment, he just stared, in shock. "Get down!" he screamed, pulling Rose to the ground as the missiles crashed over their heads, swerving down and exploding in the ruins behind them.

The entire ground reverberated with the echoing blast, and hot air tore over them in a violent wave, whipping their hair back and forcing a sheet of dirt and sand across their skin.

"Dorian!" she tugged at his arm and he raised his head to peer across the wasteland that surrounded them…straight into the bulbous glass eyes of the Daleks.

"Inferior life-forms detected. Humans. Intruders into Dalek-occupied space."

"Do not move. You are prisoners." One of the mechanical voices grated out, as the creature raised and lowered it's rifle-arm in short, jerking movements.

Dorian and Rose remained huddled on the ground amidst the smoking ruins as the Daleks surveyed them. There were at least a score of the aliens, their metallic heads twisted as they studied the human intruders, their eye-stalks stretched and lowered as they examined the thief and the girl.

"What are our orders?"

They seemed to be communicating with other Daleks somehow. Finally, the creature nearest Eroica made a cutting gesture with it's rifle-arm. "Stand up. You may serve some purpose before you are exterminated."

Rose shakily stood, Dorian saw that she was trembling, and not exactly without reason, as the creatures proceeded to surround them. He stood beside her, and one of the Daleks rolled up behind them, pointing the barrel of its weapon into the Earl's back. He glanced to his side, and blue eyes met brown, he knew that both probably looked terrified.

He wanted to reassure her, somehow, but there were twenty laser-rifles aimed at them. Not even the Prince of Thieves knew how to get out of this one.

"Move," the Dalek commanded.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Iron Klaus pulled back the trigger on the weapon the Doctor had handed him. It was almost a rocket-launcher, the ammunition it fired appeared to be a blinding sphere of light the size of a basketball. He wasn't sure how it made sense, or what it was made out of, but he had to hand it to the Doctor, at least the thing made a decent explosion.

Hmph.

The recoil was enough so that he definitely _felt _it, like an incredible kick in the chest, which hardly mattered to THE Iron Klaus, he thought, straightening and firing another shot, from his station along the barren rooftop of the abandoned factory, at the encroaching Dalek forces. He watched as the ball of energy surged and exploded in the far distance, resulting in a quite satisfying burst of earth and Daleks. This had been missing in NATO. This had _definitely _been missing in NATO. He smirked at the pure madness of it.

The explosion that had collapsed the Renell's underground tunnels _had _succeeded in trapping some of the enemy forces, but not enough. No matter how many they killed, more and more continued to appear. The Daleks fired missiles and continued to advance, seeming not to care in the slightest that their comrades were being destroyed right in front of them. The Major thought about what the Doctor had told him earlier, and reasoned that, perhaps they didn't.

Beside him, Farr was busy shouting orders to his men. The Doctor stood at the other end of the rooftop, studying the Dalek forces through some sort of binocular-like gadget. "STOP!" he shouted suddenly, turning to face the Major. "Stop, don't fire!"

"What is it!" he snapped angrily. "Do you want them to kill us!"

"They have Rose and Eroica!" the Doctor shouted, tossing him the binoculars. "Look!"

Klaus jerked the binoculars to his eyes and glared across the field. Sure enough, that stupid God-damn mad idiot thief had gotten himself and the girl caught. The two were surrounded by a group of the Daleks, stumbling forwards, laser-guns pointed at their backs. And surprise of surprises, the bloody thief actually looked scared for once.

The Major felt the casing of the binoculars crack under his grip and threw them quite forcefully back to the Doctor, his jaw clenched almost painfully. "What do they want?" he growled.

"We have prisoners," the Daleks stated in their raw, emotionless manner, once they had gotten so near the building that they stood directly below the Major and were all but walking in the front doors. "Obey our commands or these two will die."

The Major felt his blood boiling with anger. At the Renell for being so inept, at the Doctor for bringing them here, at Eroica for being stupid enough to get caught, and the Daleks for _daring _to use Eroica to get to him, for pointing their freakish alien weapons at the Earl. For… damn it. He'd just seen the Earl shot and almost killed. For whatever stupid reason, it hurt more than he thought getting shot himself would have.

He wasn't going to go through that again.

Damn them. Damn him. Damn everything.

"What do you want?" the Doctor asked.

Klaus studied the man, he wore an unusually serious expression, the manic grin and shining eyes had been replaced with a grim sobriety. He looked much like Klaus felt, for that moment.

And damn it, but…Klaus thought, looking down at their captive allies once more, but the thief even looked _sorry_. Their eyes met for one single second. The blue ones worried, scared. So strange to see Eroica looking at him that way. Klaus felt his hand clench into a tightly curled fist as his gaze moved slowly to the Daleks that surrounded them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

_What do I…? _Eroica bit his lower lip, worriedly glancing to the girl by his side and the Dalek army that surrounded them. _There has to be some way…_

He looked back up, to where the Major stood watching from atop the crumbling old infrastructure of the factory. The man's long raven-black hair was pushed back in the wind, the large alien gun resting on his right arm, and he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly, looking down at them, like a might war-god from antiquity.

The Major even bore an expression of…Dorian caught his breath. The Major looked worried for him. It was that same softened, dangerously unguarded expression as he had seen the officer wear in Greece, when the KGB had pushed Eroica's red Maserati from a cliff, and the Major had, briefly, believed the Earl was dead.

_Oh, Darling, you should know better than anyone else, I can get myself into these situations, I can _always _get out again…of course even I could use some help now and again. And doesn't the universe rather owe me? I mean I _did _get that solar-diamond-thing back for those strange purple aliens…_

"Move, prisoner!" the hard metallic voice of the Dalek behind them commanded, and the thief felt the hard metal barrel of the alien rifle jab sharply into his back, causing him to stumble forwards shakily.

"Now hang on a minute!" he snapped. "I don't think that just because you have a gun at my back gives you the right to push me around!"

"Silence, impudent human," the Dalek commanded, raising the rifle threateningly.

"Look out, Master!" the sudden intrusion of the dog's voice briskly chirping across what had, moments before, been a grimly silent battle ground, caused Eroica to look up with a wide smile.

"K-9!"

"Master, Mistress, please get down."

A moment later, a burst of red laser-fire shot out from the dog's nose, burning into the thick metal shell of the Dalek behind them with a loud sizzling crackle. The Daleks instantly turned their sights to the new threat, and Dorian grabbed Rose's arm hastily and pulled her out of the way. She stumbled into him, and they ducked low as laser fire exploded around their heads.

"Run!" Dorian shouted, pushing her in the direction of the factory.

She hurried ahead of him, but stopped part ways through the door, looking back, over her shoulder, long blonde hair swaying in front of her face. "Oh my God, K-9!"

Dorian looked back as well, through the wall of red lasers and the thick columns of smoke and explosions that had begun again as the aliens stationed atop the factory resumed their attack on the Dalek invaders. The entire building shuddered and creaked around them, debris dribbling in a smoky rain from the supports in the ceiling, as the structure groaned and screeched in protest and the ground lurched beneath them. Eroica felt his legs tremble violently at the tremors and saw Rose grasping the nearby wall for support.

A great portion of cement exploded above her head and she shrieked, falling to her knees as the world heaved beneath them once more. Smouldering pieces of wall slid down over her head and shoulders, and Eroica watched with wide eyes, stumbling back against the side of the wall, as one of the Daleks approached, it's singular eye jerking back and forth, scanning the area.

"Humans detected. Orders are to exterminate. Exterminate."

Its laser-rifle jerked upwards in preparation, aimed squarely for the girl.

"Mistress!" The red burst of light exploded through the smoke and shadows, striking the Dalek directly in its rifle-arm. The creature flailed for a moment, seeming confused, and a second laser fired, striking the crumbling ceiling directly above the Dalek's head.

In a deafening crash and thick cloud of smoke and rubble, the alien threat was buried.

Dorian rested for a moment against the shuddering wall, catching his breath. And then he saw the little robot dog make its way through the rubble and gasped.

K-9's metal casing was cracked open, the bright collar around the neck splintered apart, and sparks and wires crackling with sparks of electricity stuck through the ruined metal. The dog slid forwards a few more feet, slowing, its battery packs obviously struggling. The head hung limp to one side, swaying, cords and wires hanging loosely from the shoulders. The red eyeband was cracked and smashed apart, and the entire robot shuddered and shivered as though it would fall to pieces at any moment.

"Oh no…" the Earl murmured, crossing to the little robot's side, he looked down on it in horror. "K-9…"

"Maaaaa……sterrrrrrr….."

"Oh K-9, hang in there!" he said without thinking, kneeling down beside the dog. "I—I'm sure that the Doctor can fix this! Only—oh hang on!"

"Dooccctorrr…."

"Oh K-9, you've been a—such a good dog!" Eroica exclaimed, finding his throat catching as he looked down at the damaged robot. It was just a robot, wasn't it? But still, he felt absolutely wretched seeing it that way.

"Maaa…sterrr….?"

"K-9!" the Earl quickly put his arms around the little dog and carefully hoisted him up. K-9 was quite heavy, and he staggered a little under the weight, feeling the ruined metal casing of the head bump dully against his side. "Oh K-9, you poor old thing! I'm sure the Doctor can fix you!"

He turned back to Rose, holding K-9 in his arms, "Come on, we've got to find them!"

"You _have_," a familiar Northern accent said behind them, and Rose and Dorian turned to see the Doctor clamouring down the stairs. He leapt to the ground beside them.

For one long moment, Dorian watched as Rose and the Doctor stared at each other in silence. Dirt trailed from the crumbling structure, the walls shuddered, and the air seemed still and empty but for their trembling breaths.

The Doctor and the girl were both silent, staring at one another, and then she was in his arms, and the Doctor was clutching her tightly, protectively, against his chest. She pressed against the leather jacket that covered his shoulders, and his arms tightened around her for one long, clear moment, before he released her and stood gazing at her.

He said nothing, it seemed as though he had forgotten how to speak, his eyes were darkened and moist, and his expression was heavy, weighted with guilt and worry, and it almost seemed, Dorian thought, studying them, a sort of heartbreaking realization that for some reason seemed very, very sad.

"Doctor…" Rose whispered, staring at him in confusion as one hand reached forwards and brushed a few stray strands of gold from the side of her face.

"I could have lost you."

"It doesn't matter. It's alright now. We're fine, see?" she smiled, but there were tears shining in her soft brown eyes. "Doctor—" and she was in his arms again. He buried his face in her golden hair for a minute, breathing in deeply. "I'm so glad I met you!" she gasped, pulling away and wiping the tears from her face.

"Me too, Rose…" he murmured back, watching her, again, with eyes that seemed just a little _too _saddened, as though he carried some inner secret knowledge that…

Dorian frowned.

"Can you save that for later, when we're all not dead?" he asked, as the building around them gave one last shuddering groan and the explosions outside drew nearer. "And Doctor, your dog…"

"K-9!" the Doctor exclaimed, rushing over and quickly lifting the heavy burden from Eroica's arms.

"What are YOU IDIOTS still doing here!" another very familiar voice bellowed, shaking the decrepit walls even more than they were. "The Renell have all evacuated already! The enemy has taken over the front end of the building! The explosives are set to go off at any minute! I can't believe this!"

_But you knew we would still be in here, and you came back to find us, _Dorian thought, smiling a little. "For your information, Major, K-9 is critically wounded!"

The German regarded him with a blank stare for several minutes before dryly stating: "It can not be 'wounded' it is a robot—a machine—"

"Can you fix it?" Dorian asked, turning back to the Doctor and pointedly ignoring the Major, probably for the first time in their lives.

The Doctor was cradling the dog in his arms and studying the damaged circuits and wires with a deep, unsettling frown on his face and a line of concentration creasing his forehead.

"You must be able to fix it!" the Earl exclaimed, unable to stop the worry from flooding into his voice. Even if K-9 was a robot, he seemed more like a living being, he had a personality, he was…a companion. A friend.

Eroica caught his breath.

"I should be able to fix it," the Time Lord replied, tilting the metal body a little so that it made a non-to-healthy rattling sound. "I _am _the Doctor, after all," he looked back at the Earl with a reassuring grin.

Eroica felt himself smile a little at that, although he could not help regarding the broken thing in the Doctor's arms sadly.

And that's when he caught the Major staring at him. It was so sudden.—As though something like staring was ever done suddenly!—But the Earl felt his heart jump as he caught the Major in the corner of his eye, and when he turned, he was staring directly into those beautiful deep green orbs. Klaus never stared at him. Well, he _glared _at him sometimes, before he hit him for instance, but he had never, to Dorian's recollection, _stared _at him before. And the expression—difficult to read—almost, oddly, sympathetic?

"I—it is little more than an elaborate toy, Lord Gloria. I doubt it can feel any pain…"

"But K-9 is—"

Then it hit him. So hard the realization cut off what he had been going to say.

_The Major is trying to comfort me? _

"SHIEßE! What! What are you staring at!"

_Me? _

"Oh. Sorry, I guess I just do it out of habit nowadays," he smiled. "Although I am happy you're trying to make me feel better, darling…"

The Major's eyes instantly grew wide and all the colour drained from his face. It was actually really rather comical, the thief mused, tapping his fingertips against his lips thoughtfully. Klaus actually looked more terrified then when the Daleks had been shooting at them. "I—I was doing no such thing! I was just—it is just—a—a matter of fact and common sense—"

The Doctor, who had been watching the exchange between the two with a somewhat amused expression, suddenly frowned thoughtfully. "Wait a minute. Aren't we forgetting something here?"

"Yeah," Rose added. "Didn't you say something about explosives?"

"Verdammt! The explosives!"

"What? Explosives?" Eroica blinked, shaking his head so that the curls flew wildly. "What explosives? Where?"

"HERE, YOU IDIOT!"

"HERE!" Eroica squeaked. "Why didn't you say something earlier!"

The Major positively growled at him, he looked ready to murder Eroica this time, but to the thief's surprise (and relief) he merely grabbed his upper-arm in an iron-grip and began to pull him quickly down the hallway. Dorian stumbled after him, wincing a little at the bruising grip on his arm and the awkwardness of trying in such a manner.

"I can run on my own, Major!"

"Shut up, idiot!"

The Doctor and Rose were on their heels, and the walls continued to collapse around them. In the distance, they heard the whining screech of laser fire and the bursts of rubble and cement cracking and exploding. The thin high pitched voices tore through the chaos like a knife, shrieking. "Exterminate! Exterminate!"

Dorian felt himself shudder at the voices, and nearly tripped over the Major's feet, stumbling so hard he probably would have fallen if not for the—now excruciating—grip on his arm. Klaus somehow managed to shake him roughly at the same time as dragging him—and the next thing the thief knew, they were through the factory doors, and running through the cold black night.

Through the corner of his eye, Dorian glimpsed Rose and the Doctor run out beside them and sprint several more yards to the left. "Major, how many explosives did—"

There was a crash like nothing the Earl had experienced before. The entire world seemed to erupt behind them in a fire blaze of inferno, the blast cracking through the air with such a force that Dorian thought his skull might burst. The hot scalding air swept over them, a wash of pain so thick and burning he wanted to scream, but could not remember how to work his throat, or where his mouth was. Everything seemed twisted and pushed beyond reality, and the next thing he knew, the ground disappeared beneath his feet and the entire world twisted around on itself.

Somewhere, he heard a distant fall, a thick rain of dirt and debris. There was a shuddering blow that ran throughout his entire body, and then everything went blissfully dark.

**To be Continued in Episode 07: Dancing in Versailles, in 1689**


	7. Episode 07: Dancing In Versailles

**Episode 07: Dancing in Versailles, in 1689**

The explosion echoed loudly in Eroica's ears, one horrific roar against the inside of his skull as the world shuddered and split apart around him. He felt the ground torn out from under his feet, the sky somersaulted and there was, amidst the glaring, suffocating heat, and the blinding wash of pain, the loud thud of his own body hitting the ground, and then darkness.

Darkness.

He fought against it, even as his lungs were burning and every inch of skin ached. Hovering, on the thin and shaking bridge between consciousness and dark oblivion, the sound of dirt and rubble falling back down in a rain of debris washed over him, but none of it touched him.

For one horrifying moment, Dorian wondered if he hadn't died and left his body, or was suffering some sort of bizarre brain damage-induced sensation, and it was this momentary wash of fear that finally pried his eyes open--

To see Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach leaning over him, the Major's long raven hair spilling over his broad shoulders, large hands placed firmly on the ground at either side of Dorian's head. The thief felt his heart catch in his chest for just a second, staring up into the burning green eyes of the man above him. On top of him. _Oh my..._

And he just wouldn't be Eroica if he didn't offer the Major a coy wink and, smiling, say: "Normally, I prefer to be the top, not the bottom, but for you, darling, I'll make an exception!"

As he might have predicted, the Major stared at him with his blank horrified-petrified expression...but this time the Major didn't start shouting and swearing at him. The Major didn't even move. But stared at him like...like...

Dorian blinked.

Klaus swallowed. "You...you..."

"Pervert?" Eroica supplied helpfully, a little worried by the Major's stunned expression and the fact that Klaus still hadn't _moved_... "Major?"

The ground rumbled sharply beneath them, the ruins of the building trembling, splintered piles of mortar and burnt, toppled columns sliding further into the mess and crunching thickly in on each other. A dull buzzing roar began to fill the air, growing louder until it became a deafening wash rolling over them. Heavy winds began to push against them, blowing the Major's hair back, and causing thin streams of dirt to whip through the air, cutting thin slivers across their skin.

Klaus pushed himself away from Dorian, stumbling to his feet and brushing the dirt from his uniform. He gazed intently up at the dark black night sky.

"What is it now?" the thief asked, propping himself up on one elbow, still too shaken from the explosion to stand up entirely.

"Are you two alright?" The Doctor's voice called to them through the shadows, hollering over the roar that had surrounded them. A moment later, Dorian watched as Rose and the alien emerged from the surrounding darkness. The damaged K-9 unit had been transferred to Rose's arms, and the Doctor approached them with a deeply concerned expression. "You're not hurt, are you?" he shouted, wind pushing back at him, throwing Rose's hair into a wild torrent around her pale face.

"Unh..." Eroica groaned, wincing at bruises he could feel forming along his back and shoulders. His spine felt as though it had been snapped in two, and he was relatively certain, even without looking, that this particular black catsuit would never be suitable for the light of day-er, night--again.

"We have more important things to worry about," the Major interrupted that train of thought sharply, still refusing to tear his eyes away from the night sky. "What _is _that?"

The Doctor stared up at the sky, his brow creasing as a frown deepened on his lips. "You notice how we can't see the stars?" he shouted over the roar and the winds. "I'd say that's a spaceship hovering over us!"

"Not more Daleks!" Eroica cried, pushing himself, with some effort, from the ground, wincing at the pain in his limbs as he forced them to move. "It can't be!"

"It can be!" the Doctor shouted back, "But it could also be the Roktarr military coming to the Renell's rescue."

"You mean you can't tell!" Dorian shouted, the wind whipping his long golden curls into his mouth as he tried to speak.

"I don't have preternatural night vision, you know!"

"Doctor!" Rose called suddenly, shifting K-9 in her arms and grabbing at the pocket of her sweater.

"What?"

"I feel something--the TARDIS key!"

Dorian instantly reached for his own pocket and fished out the small silver key. It shone and burned hot in his hand. "Does this mean...?"

"The TARDIS!" the Doctor exclaimed. He turned to Klaus and Dorian, gesturing for them to follow. "Come on, now's our chance!"

"What?" Dorian exclaimed, looking at the Doctor in surprise. "But what about the Daleks? What about the _Renell_?"

The dark sky above them split open with the blinding white search lights, beams cut down, glowing circles of light revealing the tattered ruins of the city around them. In the far distance, Dorian thought he could make out the rebels scrambling to take cover, to defend themselves, regarding the new invaders with confusion and uncertainty. Explosions carried in the far distance, the smell of smoke laced the air and the dull whine of missiles firing echoed across the ruins. The fighting continued without them, the Dalek invaders continued to poor in, unwilling to relent unless they were all defeated.

"You don't understand!" the Doctor screamed at him, over the whine and explosion of bombs and the collapse of distant ruins. "We shouldn't even be here--this is somewhere in the past, something that's already happened-and since the Time Wars--we just have to get out of here while we can!"

"But you can't just abandon these people!" Dorian shouted, breaking away from the Doctor as he stepped towards him. "They need us! They need YOU! How can you abandon them!"

He watched as the Doctor's face changed, the colour drained from his skin, the eyes darkened into shadows of burning coal, the mouth became a firm, brittle wire. For a moment, Eroica felt himself startled into silence, the change so abrupt, so swift...so complete.

"You don't understand. You...can't understand. Either the Renell will be aided by the Roktarr and fight off their enemies...or they will be conquered and enslaved by the Daleks. The Dalek armies enslaved thousands of worlds across the universe. It is history. You can not change it...no matter how much you..."

Rose stood beside the Doctor, still cradling K-9 against her chest. She struggled to place a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder, shifting the robot dog in her arms. Her soft brown eyes were filled with pain and sadness, and a sort of empathy--_understanding--_where Dorian could not understand.

"You can't change the past," she whispered. "It's one of the-one of the rules, I guess. You just _can't_--" her voice choked with emotion then, eyes clouded with tears so that she turned her head, looked away, as the Doctor continued, his tone and his expression far graver than Dorian had seen before.

"I tried long ago to just go back, before the Daleks were even created, and stop them. It was a...a mission given to me by the Time Lords. I went back, to the very genesis of the hideous creatures-but I-it couldn't be done! It could not be _un_done, it just had to be...just _is_..." he looked away, his expression sombre, worse than sombre, twisted with grief, wretched. "Do you think, since the Time Wars, since losing my...do you think I never wanted to go back? To _change_ the outcome of those final days of war?"

Dorian stared at the Doctor in disbelief, he could feel the other man's pain...he could _see _the inner turmoil reflected in every taught line of the weary face. But he couldn't--_couldn't_--shut out the screams of the Renell in the distance, the explosions, the harsh burning crackle of a blaze of fire. "But they...they _need_ you...Doctor..."

The familiar whirring buzz of the TARDIS' signal began to ring throughout the air beside them, and the pulsing resonating light of the blue police public call box softly began to shimmer in and out of reality.

In the background, bombs erupted, the earth trembled, fires roared and voices screamed, cried, in agony, in terror, in pain. The Doctor turned away.

Eroica stared at him, blue eyes wide, he felt tears stinging in them despite himself, his hands shaking at the horrific noises exploding behind them. "You can't-you CAN'T abandon these people! Doctor, you CAN'T!" he heard his voice shaking, threatening to crack as he continued and shaken, forced himself to stop, heart pounding, and turned back to the fiery inferno that was rapidly engulfing the ruined city.

Lights of lasers and missiles flashed, fires crackled in empty windows and somewhere, distantly, he could still hear the harsh mechanical voices crying, without mercy or passion: "Exterminate! Exterminate! EXTERMINATE!"

And there were people--hundreds of people--_innocent_ people--who--who were-

He felt a strong hand close around his wrist, and turned to see Klaus pull him firmly inside the TARDIS' blue wooden doors.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was dark within the TARDIS. Cold and dark, and strangely, strangely unsettling. The Doctor could not remember ever feeling so disconcerted within the safe walls of his oldest companion, but the floor beneath his feet creaked, and behind him, Rose, holding K-9, was staying back, crowded next to the Major and Eroica, and none of them seemed willing to move forwards.

Eroica...the thief's anger at him, hurt, was evident and raw, and it cut deep into his heart because it was the same anger and disgust he felt at himself. He felt the bile rising sickeningly at the back of his throat, remembering the screams of the Renell at the sight of the spaceship which had most likely not been their saviours, but...

_So this is what I have come to, is it?_

_Blast it all! I was never meant to be a bloody hero. Just some sorry bloke who never made his way home until it was too late._

So why...so why did he feel so awful about it?

"So...you're back."

Instantly, the TARDIS flooded with harsh white light. The Doctor raised a hand to his face to shield his eyes, grimacing as he waited for his sight to adjust to the near-blinding glare. Behind him, he heard Rose gasp, and K-9, damaged in her arms, made weak whirring sounds of protest and alarm.

"Who are you?" he demanded, unable to keep the anger from his voice. "What do you want?" he cried, images of the Daleks and his companions placed so squarely in the jaws of death replaying in his mind. Entire armies manipulated into chasing them, from the KGB and NATO on Earth, to Ristead's Spartens near Luinway, all across the universe...and his TARDIS, _stolen_, right from under him..."Who are you and what do you want?"

The lights faded slightly, allowing the raw outlines of the TARDIS' interior to form, and a man standing near the controls, tall, dressed in dark clothing, he leaned back against the operating station casually, but with a rigid alertness simmering beneath the calm exterior. The Doctor could sense the other man's hostility, even though the face was still blurred by the harsh glow of the lights.

"Come on, who are you?" he demanded. "Who is it that's been chasing us and torturing us and trying to kill us from one end of the universe to the other? Who even has that sort of power? What do you _want_?"

The figure was silent for a moment, the head turned away slightly, as though to hide a smirk, the shoulders, blurry outlines, trembled slightly. And then the lights faded, and the figure at the control panel turned to face them.

The Doctor heard the surprised gasps behind him. The startled cries, the sound of the Major taking one step forwards, and then stopping in confusion. And the Doctor, he just-he just stood there. Eyes wide, mouth agape, staring at the man who had been manipulating them, chasing them, hunting them...staring at...himself.

"You seemed to have forgotten how horrible the Daleks really are," the other Doctor said bitterly, his face, the same face as his own, only somehow colder, the mouth twisted into a bitter snarl, the eyes gleaming darkly. "I thought it would be best to _remind _you."

"What...what are you...you can't be..." he stumbled over the words, barely hearing them as they tumbled from his lips. He saw the impossible--"This is forbidden-the Laws of Time--"

The other Doctor smiled ruefully. "The Laws of Time? The Laws of _Time_? And who is going to uphold those laws now? Now that the Time Lords have all been...now that Gallifrey...now that they're all gone."

He felt the weight of it sink into him, the darkness running in a chill river down his spine. He couldn't look at the other Doctor, at himself, he could barely look at the faintly pulsing TARDIS walls. "All of this time...I sensed another Time Lord...I thought someone had survived..."

"No one survived."

"I thought...you wanted to rule the universe or..."

"Don't be trite, now," his other self smiled, there was no trace of kindness in it. "What would we do with a universe that betrayed us? Watched our people die? Our planet...our history...the Time Wars should have turned out differently. You know they should have!"

The Time Lord felt his chest tighten. Every dark thought he had ever had, since those horrible battles, since that eternity of explosions and screams and chaos. The harsh screams of "EXTERMINATE!" as the Dalek war ships surrounded them. The terrible, grand, blazing end. The end of a planet he had never really agreed with, but in the end, had been home. And he'd watched it end. He'd watched a world end.

Every dark thought now...

"No."

"What?"

"You hear me, I said no!" he forced his gaze back up, staring himself in the eye, and repressed a cold shudder at what he saw. "No. I won't--I can't turn into you."

His other self smirked. "I'm afraid the evidence doesn't support that claim, now, does it?"

"But do you--why are you doing this?"

"I came for this..." the Doctor that was not the Doctor grinned, though it was nothing like the amicable manic grin he was used to, but one twisted and darkened by a dull gleam in the darkened eyes. He turned back to the control station, and lifted the Meren's Solar Crystal. "The energy to power an entire world...this much energy, to power my own TARDIS..."

"But what--"

"I need to go back," the Doctor snapped, his eyes fixing back on himself, determined, cold, but still fiercely intelligent, fiercely _there_. "I need to change it. Stop it. Rewrite it."

He felt his own eyes growing wide at the realization. His most secretly harboured dreams, desires. Forbidden. Impossible. "You can't...you can't change the past. You can't rewrite history! Not the Time Wars, if you try that than--"

"Time itself will be compressed. Folded in upon itself. The threads that hold together the fabric of the universe will not just be unravelled--they will be torn." He heard his own voice say. Coldly, unemotionally. Cruelly.

_So this is what I will come to? A mad man. Evil, in my own right._

_And somewhere, in his memory, the harsh mechanical voice echoed: "You would make a good Dalek." _

"Hold on--hold on a second here!"

The Doctor snapped out of his reverie at the familiar voice. He heard the footsteps echoing across the TARDIS' floor, and saw Rose move past him, confronting...him. K-9 had been set aside and she stood, long golden hair shining in the lights of the control room, her back straight and her head held high, never intimidated or afraid, just proud and arrogant and brave and--Rose--his Rose.

He watched himself regard her, he felt himself rather numb and empty and transparent, like a ghost, barely there at all. Rose continued to speak, perhaps she had been speaking more, and he had not heard it. "--You can't be doing this. You know changing the past doesn't work! You were there when--when I tried--for my Dad and you--" her voice caught on this, and even though she wasn't facing _him_, the Doctor could see her face, full of emotion, pained. "You saw what happened then! The Earth was almost destroyed because I tried to change the fate of one ordinary man!"

"Rose love," he watched his other self lean forwards, capturing her chin with his hands and tilting her face up to his own. He felt himself sickened. "I know what will happen to the universe. I just don't care."

And then he turned from her, walked past his own stunned self, past the Earl and the Major who had been watching in a sort of transfixed and bewildered horror, to the doors of the TARDIS, where he gave them one last salute with the Solar Crystal in hand, and vanished.

The Doctor stared blankly at the control panel before him for a moment, before falling against the familiar desk, unable to believe what had happened. He felt Rose standing beside him, looking at him, her large brown eyes mixed with sympathy, and horror, and confusion.

Confusion. Oh God, they would have to reinvent the word, after _this. _

Without thinking, he grabbed a random lever on the TARDIS and pushed it down. Hard.

The time ship gave a shuddering jolt, the tall cylindrical column in the centre pulsing and gyrating as the engines stirred. "We have to...go somewhere," he muttered, sparing a glance over his shoulder to see Rose, Dorian, and Klaus all staring at him mutely. Their expressions were alarmingly alike. He felt the frown deepen on his face.

_Don't look at me like that. I'm not mad._

When the TARDIS came to a halt, he gestured for the doors without even turning around. "Go, go on. I took you somewhere nice--wait, better get costumes first, wouldn't want to cause a riot."

"Wait--you mean we're somewhere in the past again?" Rose asked, looking to the doors and back to the Doctor in confusion. "But what about--"

"Just go for now, alright!" he snapped, surprised at the bitterness in his own voice and looked to Rose apologetically, only to find her eyes on him were already knowing and sympathetic. "I-I- need to repair K-9 and do some work on the TARDIS. Especially after he--" _I? _"-was here mucking around with it. It'd just bore the lot of you, go and have fun. Enjoy the aesthetics of the..." he paused to peer at the monitor flickering before him, "the seventeenth century. Earth. Hm, looks like France. You lot ought to have a fantastic time."

There was an almost audible beat of silence, before Eroica repeated, "The seventeenth century? France?"

Rose and Major Eberbach both looked to the earl for some explanation. Eroica sighed. "France was the major power in Europe, ruled by King Louis XIV, the Sun King. He built Versailles-a great golden palace in the centre of France, as a symbol of his power and influence."

The Doctor watched as the Major and Rose both turned to regard Eroica for a moment, and their thoughts were almost audible: _what do we do now? Just go on our merry way? Pretend like nothing happened? Ignore the...whatever that was?_

The Doctor sighed deeply, and turned back to the TARDIS controls, bracing his hands against the familiar counter and wishing...he didn't know what. He needed time to think. "Just go...please. Have a fantastic time. Rose, show Major Eberbach and Lord Gloria where the costumes are, won't you?"

There was another stretch of silence in which his three companions simply stared at him like he had sprouted another head, and the Doctor felt himself strangely unsettled. An impossible paradox, his own possible insanity? But it wasn't...something didn't make sense.

Across the control room, Rose turned to look at Dorian and the two seemed to come to some sort of silent agreement. They moved through one of the many doorways, towards the costume room if the TARDIS was feeling cooperative. The Major, however, remained where he was, regarding the Doctor with an increasingly suspicious expression engraved upon his stern face.

The silence became almost painful, before the Major said slowly, in a low and deadly serious tone: "You and I both know...that man could not possibly have been you."

"Well, it's nice to know someone has faith in me," the Doctor replied, forcing a grin.

"Do not be an idiot," the German replied coldly. "It is simply impossible. The paradox...if you crossed your own timeline, you would have erased yourself, would you have not? You would have to exist at one point..."

"But I don't know how else to explain any of this!" he growled, throwing his hands up in frustration.

The Major was, in the mean time, lighting a cigarette and appeared to be contemplating their situation. "Well, in any case," he said finally, "we must repair the TARDIS before anything else..." he took a drag off the cigarette and then added, as an afterthought, "And I suppose that mutt as well."

"What do you mean 'we?'" the Doctor regarded him suspiciously. "You don't know anything about the TARDIS! Or K-9's circuitry, for that matter and I--"

The Major settled that argument with a glare.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"The costumes are this way..." Rose called over her shoulder, as she and the Earl made their way through the TARDIS' long hallways. "Let's see...past the library, oh but that doesn't look like it's the library today...hm...I could have sworn the kitchen was just..."

Eroica walked beside her, brushing out his now rather tangled golden curls with a brush he had procured from _somewhere_, glancing at his well-beyond ruined black suit in disdain. The material was shredded, drenched with dirt and blood from wounds that the Doctor had healed, but had still left bloody marks on his clothing. Even the gold bracelets that jangled on his wrists were caked in mud and dirt. "I think I need a shower before we do any more adventuring..." the thief sighed.

"I know what you mean, I could use a bit of nap, myself," Rose yawned, but stopped when they came to the costume room. It was lined with racks upon racks of clothing. Doorways to numerous additional closets appeared along the walls around them, and it was all organized in alphabetical order by the name of the location, and then the time period for which the costume could be worn. There was plenty of apparel available for both men and women and in an incredible assortment of sizes.

For a moment, Dorian merely stared at the expanse of costumes laid out before them, and then he turned to her slowly, and asked: "Am I _dreaming_?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "A time-travelling alien, a laser-firing robot dog, and a telepathic space ship and you don't bat an eye, but some nice clothes--"

"_Some _clothes?" Eroica repeated, casting her a sideways glance. "You could dress a country with this!" He walked over to a rack of costumes and began looking through them, they were all brightly coloured, fantastically designed with layers upon layers of elaborate gauzy fabrics.

Rose shook her head with a bemused grin and headed for the "Earth" section, looking for "France." When she found it, it was a matter of sorting through racks of clothing until she came to the seventeenth century. "Oh my God," she choked, staring at the mess of lace, the frilly and enormous ribbons and bows that she pulled off the shelf. "I actually have to wear _this_?" she laughed.

"No, love," Eroica said, having looked up at her sudden exclamation. "That's a man's costume. _This_ one's for you." He pulled a long and very heavy-looking gown from the rack. It was comprised of layers of long skirts, the shimmering silver material pooling in his hands and draping across the floor. She stared at it in disbelief. Sure, it was pretty...but...a _corset_?

"I'm not wearing _that_!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her smile.

"Yes you are! You're grinning as madly as the Doctor!" Eroica teased, thrusting the gown into her arms.

A few minutes later, the two were sitting together, shifting through a stack of boxes of accessories, containing everything from shoes, to ribbons, to bracelets and necklaces of genuine gold, to fake flowers Rose thought would look nice done up in her hair.

"I wonder what the Doctor will think when he sees me in this?" Rose mused aloud, holding the shimmering gown before her and studying it in a long mirror. "The last time he saw me in a dress..." she threw Dorian a glance over her shoulder, unable to stifle a giggle. "The look on his face was priceless!"

Dorian momentarily looked up from the mess of red ribbon he was picking his way through, smiling a bit slyly. "I knew it!"

"What? Knew what?" Rose asked, turning around and looking at him with an inscrutable expression, somewhere between annoyance, perplexity and fright.

"Nothing..." the Earl murmured, finally pulling apart two long pieces of ribbon that had been tangled together and winding the strands absently around his fingers.

"No, _tell _me!" she demanded, suddenly unnerved. The Earl looked at her evenly. It made her nervous.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" he asked. "You're head over heels in love with the Doctor. Don't give me any of that nonsense about having a 'boyfriend' back home or that 'age difference' guff, you're in love with him, plain and simple." So saying, the Earl placed the mess of ribbon down neatly in his lap and gave her an even gaze, which was a little unsettling coming from someone who, in her experience, was so rarely serious. It suddenly seemed as though he could see right through her and was picking out all of her secrets.

"Umm..." she stared back at him with wide eyes, and an expression she feared was not nearly as blank as she would have liked. She could already feel the heat rushing to her face and turned away, unable to keep from smiling, besides the fact that it really _wasn't _funny at all. "Bloody hell..." she choked, feeling tears pricking her eyes even as her lips were pulled into a smile she could no longer hide. _I don't know whether to laugh, or to cry. _"Is it that obvious, then? Is it-is it the hand holding? The hugging?"

"It's the way you look at him," Eroica replied simply, picking one of the plastic flowers out of the box of assorted accessories and twirling it between his long, slender thief's fingers. "I'm all too used to unrequited love, my dear."

Now she _did _laugh. "What? You and that horrible Major? My God, that man's wound tighter than a-"

"Wire rope," the thief finished with a grin. But there was a pained look for a moment flitting through the blue eyes. "But honestly, Rose, it's far from hopeless with you and the Doctor."

"What do you mean! I'm his _companion_, and he's--he's--"

"An alien?"

"The _Doctor_."

Dorian sighed, and Rose crossed back to the bench where he was sitting and sat down beside him, the gown pooling in her lap. The two regarded one another for a long, winsome moment. "At least he'll admit to being your _friend_," the thief said finally, turning back to the ribbons in his lap. "That's _something_, isn't it? And you get to be with him, by his side, through everything."

She smiled. "But you get to be with the Major too, don't you? I sort of got the impression that you two were a team."

"An unwilling partnership, on his part, though. Oh, I adore every moment I spend with him, but I usually get little more than curses and a bruised jaw for my efforts."

He laughed, but it was a quiet sound, and Rose sighed, giving him a sympathetic look. "What a sad pair we make," she smiled, wiping the stubborn tears from her eyes as they laughed.

"Never matter," Eroica told her, jumping to his feet and smoothing out the fine white shirt of ruffles and lace he had pilfered from the clothing racks. "I know!" he turned on her with a mischievous smile and sparkling eyes. "The Sun King held many royal balls at Versailles. Elegance and beauty were considered of the utmost importance among nobility..."

"So you're saying we should go and enjoy the ball?" Rose asked, standing up, the dress clutched triumphantly in her hands. "I think you're right!"

"Not only that," Eroica grinned slyly. "I say we get a dance out of those two workaholics in the control room."

She laughed, unable to hide her delight. "We'll get them to dance," she agreed. "Or die trying."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Doctor was, meanwhile, hunched over the TARDIS control panel, where he had torn loose one of the many circuitry boards and was busy reworking the system with his Sonic Screwdriver in hand. The Major had removed one of the many panels from around the control station and was lying on his back, working on the collection of wires and cables above his head. Surprisingly, the German seemed to have some idea what he was doing. More than, say, the average human would have when faced with technology of the fifth dimension.

Looking up at the centre column of the many-sided console, the Doctor frowned and slammed the circuit board back into place without having changed much. The Sonic Screwdriver clattered along the edge of the console and promptly dropped off the side, only to be snatched out of the air by Major Eberbach, who continued on with whatever he was doing, without so much as a glance at the Time Lord.

The Doctor sighed irritably and leaned against the console, massaging his temples with one hand. Everything had been so chaotic lately. Well, granted everything was, generally speaking, chaotic in his life, but this was turning out to be something else altogether.

"I miss the old days!" he said suddenly. "Travelling from world to world, getting mixed up in the petty problems of some monarchy or whatnot..._fishing_."

He looked over at the Major for some response, but the officer was absorbed in his work, and did not even pause to give the Doctor a disgusted scowl. With a shake of his head, the Doctor turned to K-9. The little dog-shaped automaton was lying on one of the work benches around the console, his circuit board removed, with loose bits and pieces that had fallen off since the Dalek battle scattered about.

Behind him, he heard the Major slide out from under the console and stand. "You can fix that bloody thing, can't you?" he asked, his voice the perpetual growl the Doctor had grown used to, although...

The Time Lord turned to the Major with a look of some surprise. "Well, I _am _brilliant. But I hadn't been expecting you to care much about what happened to my dog, either way, Major."

Klaus scowled at him darkly. "That is not a dog, it is a robot."

"A mobile self-powered computer, actually," the Doctor corrected, taking his Sonic Screwdriver back from the Major and turning to the workbench. "But he's _also _my dog. So, if you don't mind..." he stopped suddenly, placing the screwdriver down next to the inanimate K-9 and turning back to the Major. "Oh I get it...this is because Dorian was so upset, isn't it?"

He had the amusement of watching the German's face change several angry colours, the hands clench into shaking fists, and the military-green eyes positively _glow _with outrage, before the bellowing began. "I care nothing about that verdammt idiot! That perverted faggot! That bloody lunatic!"

"No?" the Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows with a look of innocent confusion. "Really? Well then, why don't we get back to-"

"He is utterly irresponsible and frivolous! Nothing more than a child!"

"Well-" the Doctor attempted, turning back to the major with a rather confused look, only to be cut off again.

"And utterly mad! He's almost been killed countless times chasing after me the way he does! The bloody mad idiot! The first time...we were on a ship that had been taken by terrorists and I told him he was just a thief, it wasn't his domain! And then in Greece, when his car was forced off the cliff and he was almost killed, I told him 'This is what happens when you get involved with me!' he was lucky to be alive! Every time I tell him to stay out of the way--but does he ever listen?" By this point, the Major was smoking furiously, and pacing back and forth, he seemed to have forgotten the Doctor altogether. "--No! Of course he never listens! The damn imbecile! The fool! Did you know--" and here, he swung around to face the Doctor so suddenly that the Time Lord found himself quite startled by the penetrating and furious glare that was settled upon him. "--did you know the idiot actually placed himself between me and KGB operatives armed with machine guns? He is completely mad! I mean, what is so God-damn special about me that he has to follow me around like--like--like--"

"...like Mary's little lamb?" the Doctor supplied helpfully.

Well.

How was he supposed to know that was the wrong choice of words?

The Major turned on him with a look of absolute fury, the green eyes livid raging fires, and Klaus began to shout random phrases in German, stopping and sputtering, apparently too angry to form much of a sentence.

"It sounds to me like he cares about you," the Doctor said, turning back to K-9.

He could feel the Major's glare on the back of his neck. "That isn't...no, he is just a hedonistic pervert wanting to satisfy his perverted desires. And he is utterly mad."

"Well...it's my experience that anyone interesting usually is mad, in some way or another," the Doctor said, glancing over his shoulder while working on patching some of K-9's internal circuits. "And besides what if he wasn't?"

"Mad? Or a pervert?" the Major asked, looking at him suspiciously.

The Doctor sighed.

The Major continued to smoke in silence for the next several minutes, and the Doctor worked on repairing K-9. When von Eberbach spoke again, it was in a slightly subdued tone. "It is..._dangerous _to have a civilian interfering, ja? Why do _you _do it?"

"Hm? Do what?" he asked absently, continuing to toy with the advanced circuitry of K-9's databanks.

The Major scowled. "Miss Tyler. Why do you allow her to come with you? You have been in a war-"

"War_s_," the Doctor corrected.

The Major frowned. "You certainly know what it is like. Is it not a distra...an inconvenience to have her around? You are less serious in her company. You let your guard down."

"I never let my guard down," the Doctor responded briskly. "I just let people _think_ that I do. Oh, and, it's worth it."

"Was tust du?" the Major asked absently, glancing up from his cigarette as the Doctor turned to face him.

The Doctor sighed deeply. "It's worth it. The risk, the-the inconvenience. It's worth it. To have someone there with you, to have a friend, who will be by your side even when the entire universe is against you. How do I explain...when I first met her, I saved her life and promptly afterwards she saved mine. Hasn't Eroica saved your life, Major?"

Klaus grimaced at this, yanking another cigarette from his jacket pocket with considerable force. For the continued wellbeing of their party, the Doctor prayed the man never ran out. The Major was unpleasant enough _without _adding a nicotine shortage to the mix.

"Ja, I told you, that idiot fop has done plenty of idiotic things," the Major growled. "Like putting himself in a helicopter between me and armed KGB agents."

"And there's more to it than that...she trusts me so much," the Doctor paused for a moment, feeling the weight of his own words in his chest before he whispered the next two: "It's incredible."

The Major was, to his surprise, nodding understandingly.

"We were trapped by these aliens, and I told her I could stop them but I might end up losing her. And she just looked at me and said 'do it,' and she didn't even know what it was! She just _trusted _me so..." he took a deep breath, "Even when we're staring into the face of death, she's able to say she doesn't regret it."

Klaus stood smoking and staring at nothing, apparently lost in thought. The Doctor ran a hand over his head and leaned back against the work bench, he suddenly felt unsettled by his own revelations. He was startled when the Major continued their conversation in a low, serious voice.

"But you wouldn't let her be here if it was truly that dangerous, would you? If you were trapped in a situation, and you knew there was no getting out of it alive..."

He looked up at him then, feeling a sudden chill wave of cold sweep through him at the intensity of the officer's stern gaze. And he _knew_ that"No. I would send her home. She wouldn't want to go. She would never even think of it. She's too good. But I..."

"You couldn't put her in that situation," the Major agreed calmly. "You couldn't let her put _herself _in that situation. And if she did, you would force her away, any way you could."

The Doctor found himself staring at the Major, the Major staring resolutely back. And he understood.

"You are different, Time Lord. I understand that now. Perhaps you understand better which situations are seriously deadly and which you will be able to escape. But I never know these things. Every time I am on a mission, I think, this could be the last. I might not return home after this. The thief...if I ever encouraged him, and he..."

"But Major--"

Their conversation, however, was interrupted, as at that moment, the doors to the console room reopened and Eroica and Rose stepped back into the control room looking...

Looking as though they had stepped in from the Seventeenth Century, not as actors wearing costumes, but as though they naturally belonged to that time period.

The Earl, naturally, was perfect. Fashionable men had worn their hair long in this time period, Eroica's mane of golden curls, coupled with the expected elaborate clothing, made Eroica seem entirely in his element, perhaps even more so than in his own time period.

And Rose looked...the Doctor swallowed the lump that had been building in his throat. The last time he had seen her in a dress, he had said that she was beautiful before he could stop himself, and this time...but this was...He could not seem to stop himself from staring. Her gown was made of silver cloth, with teardrop pearls cascading down the flounces. Her slender waist was enclosed in a tight-fitting corset, and the chest was low cut and trimmed with bunches of lace. Her hair was wound up on her head in an elaborate crown of braids twisted amongst a nest of soft flowers.

Large brown eyes sparkled at him warmly, and she smiled, looking both energetic and enthused, and somehow slightly shy, and for that moment, the earlier chaos, the earlier horrors and confusion, were momentarily forgotten.

Until, of course, the Major's thunderous bellowing shattered the moment.

"God DAMN it, Eroica! What in God's name are you wearing! You God damn fop!"

Long golden curls spilled beautifully over a short bolero jacket and fine white muslin chemise, trimmed in lace at the cuffs, and gathered in small volumes at the sleeves, all trimmed with flashy red ribbons. Even the petticoat breeches trimmed with yards of ribbon, and the skin-tight stockings covering his otherwise bare long legs, all fastened with huge, elaborate ribbons and bows, were nothing out-of-the-ordinary for nobility of the French courts in the Seventeenth Century, in fact, it was rather expected, and the Earl looked perfectly at ease, in fact delighted, and moved with the sort of grace that would surely win the hearts of all the nobility he encountered.

"Actually, Major, the Earl isn't wearing anything that would be considered out of place among nobility during this time period," the Doctor informed him.

The Major paled. "I will not wear _that_!" he thundered.

"Hm, to be perfectly honest I think _I'd _rather sit this one out myself," the Doctor admitted, eyeing the lacy ensemble warily. "You two go have fun."

Rose's face instantly fell. "But Doctor-"

"No, no, no! The puppy dog eyes won't work on me!" he exclaimed, turning back to the work station so quickly he struck it with his knee and winced as the pain shot through his leg. "Sorry, Rose, I'm busy anyways."

"Oh come on, what if there are more Daleks out there? Or Spartens? Who knows what we could be up against!" she protested. "Doctor!"

He concentrated on the electronic parts spilled across the table in front of him. _Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her. _But when she grabbed his hand and forced him to turn around and meet her gaze, he knew he was lost. He sighed a little in defeat, looking down into those large, determined brown eyes. "Alright then, you and Eroica go on ahead and I'll catch up later."

She frowned slightly at this, but finally agreed, moving to the TARDIS doors with Lord Gloria, pausing on her way out to take one last glance in his direction. Her large, soft eyes were so wide and silently pleading, glistening pink lips invitingly parted...the Doctor frowned, and shut his eyes, turning back to the automaton that, at this rate, was _never _going to be repaired.

After a few moments, once they were certain that Rose and the Earl had left, he said quietly, to the Major, although neither would really look at the other man, "I understand."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Eroica's gaze swept across the grand palace of Versailles, one of the most beautiful monuments in the world, and in the heart of its glory. The tall, shining walls rose up before them, illustrious and grand. Marble fountains, spraying crystal water lined their path, deep pools framed their vision, the stars from the night sky reflected in the glistening water like diamonds tumbled across black velvet. Thick stretches of garden covered the estate, overflowing with lush carnations, which, in the sunlight, would have been deep shades of red. For a moment, the Earl stood in stunned silence, drinking in the majesty and the history and the grandeur.

Rose was at his side, watching everything with wide eyes, and after a moment she startled him with a gleeful cry and nearly threw him off balance, grabbing his wrist and pointing excitedly. Following her gaze, Dorian saw them-the French nobles, the courtiers, all dressed in shimmering layers of bright and elaborate costume. Ostentatious jewels sparkled everywhere, the women moved with their large great gowns shifting about them, and the men were no less elaborately decorated in this time and place.

"Let's go closer," he murmured, and Rose laughed delightedly and jauntily took his arm.

Eroica had, naturally, been to Versailles several times in his life, but to see it in all of its glory, alight with thousands of candles, crystal chandeliers glowing above them, and hundreds of men and women all dressed in mountains of ruffles and ribbons and lace moving around him dancing and laughing, was more incredible and beautiful than he ever could have imagined.

For a moment, he allowed the shimmering golden and crystalline beauty to wash over him, eclipsing the horrors of the Spartens and the Daleks and the war-ravaged world of the Renell in a blazing barrage of splendour and light. Music floated through the air, the delicate twinkling of flutes and clarinets twinkling in and out between the French conversations, the bubbling laughter that created a dense murmur around them. Somewhere indiscernible, a violin was sweetly singing.

Beside him, Rose was laughing, her eyes shining as she positively beamed at the sights around them. Eroica smiled down at her for a moment, thinking, _and the Doctor will come for her, and she will get her dance. _Before turning his attention to the famous Hall of Mirrors.

The next moments had Dorian lost in the endless beauty of the countless crystal mirrors all lined between thick frames of gold, flicked with hot orange candlelight and the shattered lights reflected from the chandeliers. It wasn't long at all, before he found a room which hosted a very magnificent art gallery.

It was away from the noise and the crowds of the other guests, a hidden, rather secluded area, the Earl noted. Even Rose had disappeared, and he suddenly found himself quite alone, except that he could still hear the music, drifting up from the ballroom, and the faint murmur of voices in the distance. He felt himself momentarily relaxing, and moved closer to some of the ornately framed oil paintings that lined the walls.

His eyes lingered on one piece, in particular. It appeared to be the work of an unknown artist, although the style leant itself to the Italian Renaissance. The colours reminded him a little of Botticelli's art, although there was something distinctly Raphael-like in the softened, pretty, faces. The colours were bright, but fluid rather than garish, the textures seemed rich and soft, and the painted skin appeared to glow with its own inner-warmth.

Somehow, the warmth seemed to reach out and wrap around him, and he stayed there for a minute longer, revelling in the soft warming glow of the painted figures and the bright colours, which were for that moment, more real to him than the palace, or the ball, or the music floating in through the opened doorway.

So he was quite startled when he felt Rose brush his hand and her eyes on him, an inquiring frown on her lips. "Dorian? Dorian...?"

Shaking himself out of the hazy trance, Eroica turned and smiled at her, only to find that her worried expression did not fade. It took him a moment to realize why, when he reached up to touch his face, and felt something wet and cold sliding beneath his fingertips.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They made their way back to the crowded ballroom, and Eroica tossed his lustrous golden mane, allowing the warmth of the hundreds of burning candles, the sparkling chandeliers, and the longing gazes of a crowd of noblewomen (and some men) to wash over him. The music picked up, a high sweeping piece lifting them over the floor, as pairs swirled around them.

"Well," Dorian asked, turning to Rose with a dazzling smile. "Shall we dance?"

The music played and they moved over the glistening floor, whirling through the crowds, and the crowd becoming a swirling sea of magnificent colours and lights around them as the music fell, only to rise so magnificently that it nearly lifted them off the floor altogether.

Rose laughed, and Dorian had to admit he was enjoying himself. In the sea of movement, colours and the thick rise and fall of the orchestra, it was easy to be lost and feel free. He knew that half of the room was staring at them in envy and awe, and felt a smile of triumph forming on his lips as they whirled and whirled through the diamond lights of the chandeliers, and the sparkling musical chords.

When they came to a stop, Dorian noticed the Doctor watching them from the assembled crowd. He almost laughed when he saw how odd the Doctor looked, for he had refused to conform with the fashions of the period, instead opting to wear the usual black leather jacket and dark trousers. Rather than appearing inconspicuous, however, he looked positively alien in the sparkling ballroom. Eyes turned in his direction nervously, women gossiped loudly, and Rose merely shook her head.

"He wouldn't get into costume last time, either," she claimed, with an exasperated sigh that ended in a bit of a laugh.

Once they crossed the ballroom and managed to meet up with him, he offered them an enthusiastic grin, the days earlier horrors seeming forgotten.

"Well Doctor, you came, now you have to dance!" Rose smiled.

"Oh no, I'm not dancing with you, Rose Tyler! You'd probably step on my feet!" the Doctor exclaimed, backing away a few steps.

She slapped him playfully on the arm and laughed. "You beast! Come on, Dorian danced with me!"

"Yes, but..." he turned to get away, and found himself face-to-face with the Earl.

Eroica smiled sweetly. "You could always dance with me, if you prefer, darling," he said with a coy wink.

The Doctor looked from Rose to the Earl, and back again. "Well...he _is_ less likely to step on my toes, you know."

When the music began again, however, Rose grabbed the Doctor's arm, and Eroica gave him a little push, and sent the two out onto the ballroom floor. "Don't worry Doctor...you'll be fantastic!" Dorian called after him, laughing at the Doctor's expression. The Time Lord suddenly had his arms full of Rose Tyler, and evidently was not entirely sure what to do about it.

After the first awkward moment, however, as the flow of the music washed over them and dancing couples surrounded them, the Doctor appeared to relax, and the two moved and spun across the floor. The Doctor appearing painfully out of place with his short hair and plain clothes, but they were lovely, nonetheless.

Dorian watched for a while, as the Doctor and Rose moved across the floor. She was shining with joy, smiling up at the Doctor, completely enthralled, and he, he was looking down at her with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling, his hand resting at the small over her back and, almost unconsciously, pulling her closer against him. They moved and twirled together, as though none of the other dancers existed, and at that moment it really did seem as though the music and the lights existed for them alone.

Dorian smiled wistfully at them, before allowing his gaze to drop to an unfocused blur of colourful gowns and costumes, and then, finally, the music, the dancing, and his utter aloneness, grew too much for him, and he turned away from them, slipping back into the long corridors and splendid drawing rooms of Versailles.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Klaus scowled at the ridiculous golden walls that surrounded him. Everything was intolerably bright and lavish, utterly gaudy to the point where he found it not the least bit tasteful. The damn thief was probably in Heaven.

There was no force in the universe that would have made Klaus dress in one of those foppish ensembles that these people actually considered _men's _clothing, so he was clad in his familiar uniform, his long trench coat draped over top of it. Well, a trench coat that _looked _just like his. The Doctor had an utterly ridiculous amount of clothing stowed away in that TARDIS. It was a damned waste of space if ever the Major had seen one, although trying to gauge what 'space' exactly meant while living in a box that was bigger on the inside than the out only served to give him a headache.

And one look at that horrid ballroom was enough to convince Klaus that he never wanted to return to France again in any time period. Not that the surrounding hallways and corridors were much better, filled with frivolous artwork, statues, columns, the walls were trimmed with intricately cut gold and there were so many damn mirrors it was giving him a headache. Small wonder that Louis XVI had ended up bankrupt and getting his head chopped off. At least the French peasants had a bit of sense in them.

In any event, he was steadfastly determined _not _to go anywhere near that ballroom. No, he would observe the area and make sure that there were no Spartens, or Daleks or other homicidal aliens waiting to leap out of the shadows and exterminate them.

And it had absolutely _nothing _to do with the fact that Dorian-Lord Gloria-_Eroica_ would be somewhere in that ballroom, wearing that perversely sensuous blouse, and those utterly disgraceful stockings that made his legs seem _bare, _and all those layers of frill and lace and ribbon that Klaus, inexplicably, felt his fingers itching to _tear off_...

Klaus stopped, almost swallowing his cigarette, and grimaced at himself in disgust. He wanted to punch something, but there wasn't an inch of wall free of the glass of some decadent mirror or another. But there _was _no help for it. The thief laughing in that bit of thin white ruffled fabric, which clung together by ribbons that could all-too easily be pulled loose, was going to haunt him just as...

Just as the Earl leaning over the balcony, basking in the hot golden glow of the sunset on Luinway haunted him. Just as the Earl laughing with joy at the wonders of Ristead's space station, wide eyes taking in everything, haunted him. Just as the image burned into his retinas of Eroica's falling form toppling from the ledge in the observation centre still made his blood run cold, and the thief's childlike concern for the robot dog, the face suddenly becoming so innocent and sad, refused to leave his mind.

The Major took a deep breath. For his entire life, he had _known _that there was no such thing as love in the universe. And he had also known that there were no such things as aliens, and that time travel was impossible. And now he had travelled through time, and fought side-by-side with an alien. And he _knew _that there was love in the universe. It was love when Eroica-Lord Gloria-_Dorian_ looked at him. It was love that he had felt, with a horrible twisted pain in his chest, as he'd watched the thief fall...and when he waited outside the operating room, _knowing _Eroica was going to die.

Klaus stopped. He looked into one of the hundreds of mirrors that lined the hallway, and saw his own dark, tired eyes looking back at him. So he knew what it was now. It had a name now. But it still didn't change anything.

_Eroica, almost getting himself killed _again _by the Daleks..._

He could never encourage him. He could never know. They had to go back to Earth, and the thief had to stop following him on NATO missions, because Klaus wasn't sure, after everything he had come to realize, that he could handle it anymore if he had to endure-

A muffled sound in the next room. Out of instinct, Klaus reached for his magnum, and carefully slipped in through the slightly-ajar door. The room was dark, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but then he realized that he was in some sort of a private gallery room, paintings lining the walls and small detailed statues and vases resting on columns. Through the window, the moonlight poured across the dark floor, striking the solitary figure who stood in the room.

It could only be one person, with that mass of golden curls. Klaus returned the gun to his shoulder-holster and frowned. It seemed Eroica was always a thief, and just couldn't resist some damn painting or another. Except that, the thief wasn't, at the moment, doing any thieving. He was just...standing there, almost as though in a trance. The Major's frown deepened and he continued to watch in silence.

"There you are, my darling..."

For a moment, the Major started, staring at the back of the thief's head in surprise, before he realized that Eroica wasn't talking to _him_...

"Something I've always wanted..."

But to the _painting_.

"Something I've never, ever, had."

And Eroica shifted slightly, the long golden curls falling forwards as, for that moment the head bowed, and the moonlight shifting over him struck the painting on the wall, lifting the veil of darkness for Klaus to see...

There was a woman, plump and middle-aged, with a round kind face and soft-looking flesh, long shimmering hair done up in modest buns, the long draping folds of material that formed her clothing spilling out across the grassy green field, where, beside her, a man, her husband, was sitting, a kindly, fatherly-looking gentlemen. Between them was a small child, playing on the ground, as the parents looked loving down on him, and all three seemed to glow and shine off the canvas in haze of warmth and love so expertly captured by the painter that even Klaus found himself momentarily stunned by it.

It might have been the Madonna and Joseph, or it might have been an artist's depiction of an ordinary family, Klaus didn't know enough about art to be able to tell, but in either case, Klaus couldn't see what exactly Eroica wanted with it. It was a far cry from the usual paintings and statues of aesthetic young men that the Earl usually preferred.

"Stable family. Loving mother, and noble father," the Earl continued softly, reaching up, he placed a hand on both sides of the ornate bronze frame that surrounded the canvas, and pulled the large painting from the wall. "Well, I deserve to have you. The people here obviously haven't been taking very good care of you. Where are the sentries, the guards! Someone should have been looking out for you! Someone should have been _protecting _you! Arrogant, inattentive, NEGLECTFUL CRETINS! They don't deserve you!"

Klaus started at the unexpected tone the thief took, the brutally raised voice seemed unlike him, and unsettling, raw with emotion. And unstable. The Major had known Eroica for years, and he had to, however grudgingly, admit that the Earl was the best at what he did. Screaming at a painting in the middle of a heist where the guards could hear somehow failed to fit the profile of the Prince of Thieves.

Without thinking, the Major reached forwards and grabbed Eroica's arms, spinning the thief around forcefully. The painting clattered to the floor and the Earl's eyes grew wide in alarm as he suddenly found himself facing the Iron Major. "What are you doing here!"

"You can't steal this painting, Eroica!" he growled, shaking the thief and hoping, for once, to shake some sense into the blonde head.

"Go away!" the Earl snapped, to his surprise, struggling out of the Major's grip and turning away from him again. "Leave me alone!"

Klaus stared at Eroica in disbelief. "Use your head, idiot! You can't steal this painting. We don't even live in this time period! Think about it!"

Dorian still refused to face him, the thief has his arms wrapped tightly around himself, head bent forwards so that the mess of golden curls slid over his shoulders in a tangled heap. For a moment, the Major had a brief flash of memory, on a high jacked ship, many years ago, when he had rescued a badly shaken Eroica from a gang of seajackers.

With a weary sigh, Klaus pulled out another cigarette and lit it. The silence stretched uncomfortably between them. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked finally, because for once the thief wasn't prattling on about everything under the sun.

"_No_," came the uncharacteristically sullen reply. "I want you to _leave_."

"No," he replied simply.

The thief sighed exasperatedly. "_Why_?" He asked, turning back to Klaus, and the Major was momentarily stunned to see something like tear streaks glinting faintly along the white face in the moonlight.

"Because, you're likely to do something stupid and cause trouble for all of us," he said finally, taking a deep drag from his cigarette as Dorian wiped the tears from his face.

"It's not even that good of a painting, you know," the Major continued offhandedly, as Dorian's gaze travelled back to the canvas that was now sitting on the floor, propped against the wall. The thief looked at him in confusion. "The Eberbach collection has a much nicer piece of this...sort of scene."

Now Dorian was staring at him, not as he usually did, but with an utterly perplexed expression. "...You confuse me," he said, finally.

The Major smirked. "What else is new?"

In the distance, they could hear the music from the ball continuing, floating in around them in faint shimmerings of sound. When the Major looked up from his cigarette again, the thief had somehow closed the space between them. "Dance with me, Major."

He stared at the thief in utter disbelief. One minute...

"No one will ever know."

Klaus sighed heavily, tossing the cigarette to the floor where the servants would doubtless wonder about it. "Idiot."

"I don't mind if you step on my feet, Major."

"That's not the-"

He suddenly felt Dorian's hands locking in his own, and that warm body was pressed up against his for a second, before they were moving, back and forth across the empty, darkened gallery, in a slow, hazy sort of movement, as though in a dream.

It occurred to him later, that he probably should have punched the thief and stormed out. But at the moment it had just seemed like the only possible thing in the world for him to do was dance.

After all, he could go time-travelling with an alien in a police public call box, and fight evil robots with energy rays, so it seemed, in that light, utterly plausible that he could-_should _dance with Eroica, in Versailles, in 1689.

**To be Continued in Episode 08: The Oracle**


	8. Episode 08: The Oracle

**Episode 08: The Oracle **

As the music faded softly into the gentle murmur of background noises, mingled with conversations and laughter, the Doctor pulled Rose close against him. She was truly beautiful—silver sparkles dancing in her golden hair. She was smiling, and the Doctor thought she looked happier than he had ever seen her before. He found himself staring at her, trapped by the beauty of her face, her smile, and the lights in her eyes. She smiled up at him, her lips parted invitingly, painted a deep glossy red—wet and shining.

He suddenly felt an incredible urge to taste those red lips.

Instantly he felt his face flush, and turned away, his two hearts pounding sharply in his chest. Never, _never_, before had he felt that way about one of his travelling companions. Well, there had been Grace, hadn't there? He had kissed Grace, yes. But…that had been different, in the past, clouded by regeneration and eclipsed by the horrors he had seen since.

But he felt it would be wrong now, wrong for him to…

"Doctor?" she caught his hand in hers tightly, forcing him to turn around and face her with an incessant tug.

He looked back at her and found himself stunned by the cold light of the chandeliers and the candles blazing off her golden hair, casting a halo of raw brilliance all around her. Before he realized what he was doing, he found that his hands were grasping her bare shoulders, pulling her closer on sheer instinct.

"Doctor, are you alright?" she asked, peering up at him with a slightly perplexed, slightly concerned expression that was, really, at its heart, he thought, amused.

Of course.

What manner of Time Lord had instincts like _that!_

The Doctor shook himself, and forced himself once again to turn away. "I—I'm fine—fantastic! Just need some fresh air, that's all!" He winced at the sound of his voice, it was higher than normal; he felt like a jabbering idiot. "If you'll excuse me now, Rose—"

She captured his hands tightly once again, in her unrelenting grasp. "No, I won't! You're acting strangely, and I don't—"

He spun around abruptly, once again, this time unable to stop from colliding with her. He felt her entire body, warm and pulsing, pressed up against his. The other dancers moving around them seemed to evaporate and vanish into a dull blur of colours he could no longer see, and noises he could no longer hear. He felt her firm round breasts, nearly bursting out of the tight low-cut French gown, and the warmth penetrated straight through his shirt and stunned him, so that he was quite incapable of moving or turning away. A part of his brain that was still functioning was screaming at him to run away. But his current body, this regeneration, was reacting with a rush of mad, torturous and wonderful sensations he had not thought his people _capable _of feeling. Something ancient, primeval, left over from his ancestor's ancestors.

He had his hands on her shoulders again, holding her close, although she was making no move to get away, only staring up at him with those wide brown eyes, trusting him, implicitly. And she was so pretty, so perfect before him, an angel in silk and lace, with flowers in her hair and candlelight and innocence in her eyes.

Oh, whatever gods there were in the universe, he was the Doctor! His life wasn't meant to be some tawdry romance. It had never been before. Had it? It was so hard to remember his past regenerations…

He tentatively felt the smooth, perfect curve of her cheek, her pouting lips, the corners of her eyes. Eyes that were lost on him, for him, loving him.

_Damn it._

Every sane part of him was telling him to resist.

But he had always been a bit of an eccentric.

He pulled her even tighter against him, wrapping his arms possessively around his Rose's back, she was his—and he—

He pressed his lips against hers hungrily, clumsily, how long had been since…? His hands worked their way up to her hair, working their way through the braids and coils. He felt her moan into his mouth, and return his kiss with equal passion, fervour. It sent electric shocks jolting through his body, and he tightened his arms around her small waist again, wanting her as close against him as possible. He wanted it to continue, her slender arms reaching up and encircling his neck. He wanted it to never end.

But the startled gasps and exclamations of the seventeenth-century court brought them both back to reality with a rather unpleasant jolt. Rose looked around, suddenly appearing surprisingly meek, at the eyes staring at them in shock and horror.

"Uh…maybe we should continue this elsewhere, Doctor."

He gave the crowd a nervous grin.

"I think you might be right."

On the walk back to the TARDIS, Rose clasped his hand tightly, and leaned a little against him. "This is really happening, isn't it?" she whispered quietly.

"I—don't know," he admitted, swallowing the lump that had been building in his throat. She was so young. And so beautiful. And so innocent. It suddenly seemed wrong and selfish of him to be with her. To want to be with her. To—

"Doctor," she stopped suddenly, pulling him around to face her, and looking up at him, the brown eyes intense, the pretty face serious. "We watched the world end together, didn't we? And afterwards, you told me there was no one left. But I told you—_I'm_ here, Doctor. And I'm not going anywhere."

She reached up and touched the side of his face, her fingers, so light, like feathers against him.

He closed his eyes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile, Dorian and Klaus sat in the TARDIS, waiting for the Doctor and Rose to return. Eroica sighed, while plucking bits of ribbon out of his hair and shaking the abundant curls free.

"There is just one thing bothering me," the Major said suddenly, causing Dorian to look up from where he was lounging against the main console.

_Just _one _thing? Oh dear. _

"How is it that you and Miss Tyler were able to get into the palace of Versailles without an invitation?" The Major's brow was settled into a deep frown of concentration already teetering on disapproval. "The Doctor and I had enough difficulty…" Always the stern upholder of authority and order, his Major.

Eroica looked at his darling, surprised and amused. Slowly, a sly grin crept across his face. "But I _had _an invitation, darling." He took a small slip of paper out of his pocket and presented it to Klaus.

The Major found himself staring at thick piece of parchment, the borders illuminated with raised golden ribbons, the words elaborately painted in a calligraphy that made it nearly impossible to decipher, completed with the Sun King's seal.

Frowning, he blinked and shook his head. When he focused his eyes on the paper again, it was only an ordinary, blank, card. He scowled at the thief. "Psychic paper. This belongs to the Doctor."

"I'm going to give it back," Eroica replied with a look of complete innocence.

"I thought you gave it back before."

"I did."

"You stole it _again_," the Major sighed, exasperated. "You could have just asked! I am sure he would have leant it to you."

Eroica pouted. "But I'm a _thief_, darling! Thieving is what I _do_!"

The Major rolled his eyes. "I _know_."

Dorian laughed at the expression on his beloved's face, just as the TARDIS' door opened, revealing the Doctor and Rose. He was slightly surprised that both seemed a bit uneasy and perturbed. He frowned, not understanding.

"Doctor?"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. The dance was supposed to make them both happy, and instead, Dorian found himself frowning at their darkened and serious expressions.

"Well, let's set the course for our next destination, shall we?" the Doctor said brightly, though, to Dorian the levity sounded more than a little feigned. "After all, there's no telling what we'll have to be prepared for with my doppelganger on the lose with the Luinway Solar Crystal, mixing up all sorts of trouble!"

"Your doppelganger…so that isn't—wasn't—is not—_you_?" Dorian asked, slightly bewildered.

"I don't know," the Doctor said quietly, his face once again turning grave as he reached for the TARDIS' main console. "I don't know, but either way we're going to have to be prepared. Whoever he is, he's definitely…mad, insane—"

"You're not mad, Doctor," Rose said softly, placing a hand firmly on his arm.

"Whatever is going on here, that man wants to fold time in on itself, compressing the entire universe, overlapping everything that ever was or ever will be, or is, and that will—"

"Erase everything?" Klaus asked dryly.

The Doctor looked at them, his eyes dark and serious. "_Yes._"

"Oh God…so it _will_…" Rose breathed softly. "We can't—what are we going to do?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't _know_?" Eroica repeated, struggling a bit unsuccessfully to keep the incredulity out of his voice. He turned to the Major. Klaus was in the process of lighting a cigarette. "Major?"

"How the hell should _I _know how to stop an insane rampaging alien bent on erasing the boundaries between time and space?" the Major replied, glaring at him in annoyance. Then, while taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he frowned, more deeply than before, and his entire expression appeared to darken.

"Major…?"

He didn't like the way Klaus looked just then.

"Doctor…" the Major slowly flicked his cigarette away, before reaching into the jacket of his uniform. "I think it is impossible, but then, I have thought many things were impossible before…_this_ farce."

He said the word in a way that did encompass the Doctor, and Rose, and the TARDIS, and alien worlds, and Daleks, and dinosaurs, Dorian thought, hugging his arms around himself tightly at the cold chill, something even harsher than the usual growl, in Klaus' deep baritone voice.

"If that madman who has been tormenting us and is threatening us _is _you, Doctor…"

The Major pulled out his gun.

"Major…" the Doctor murmured.

"The surest way to solve our problems would be to—"

"NO!" Rose cried, looking from Klaus to the Doctor in horror. "What are you doing! Stop it!" she screamed, moving to stop the Major, but the Doctor held out his arm and pushed her back.

Dorian could only stare with wide eyes at the scene playing out before him. He tried to say something, to shout out, to call to them, but no sounds could make their way through his tightened throat. Rose was almost in tears. "Stop it! Stop it! Please—!"

And Dorian couldn't even move.

"_Please—!_"

Swallowing, he shut his eyes.

"Rose, this is beyond you and me," the Doctor was saying gravely, the column in the centre of the TARDIS console was blaring, the green lights rising and falling, the entire room shifted and groaned around them. "If this could save the universe…perhaps this _is _the answer."

He spoke, Dorian thought, as though dying meant next to nothing to him…

"NO!" Rose cried, and before Dorian or the Doctor could move to stop her, she had flung herself past the Major, and began slamming buttons on the TARDIS' main console. "Do something!" she screamed, looking up at the great centre column of the many-sided console. "I know you aren't just a machine! Help us—"

"Rose—!"

And that was the last thing Dorian heard as the entire ship gave one shuddering, screeching halt, the walls and floors shaking violently as though they were going to break apart, and then everything went dark.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

_I'm getting tired of being knocked out. It isn't like me at all._

Dorian struggled for a moment to sit up, the hard floor of the TARDIS made for a very uncomfortable bed. The interior of the console room was still plunged into darkness.

"Mhgh—" he groaned as he struggled to stand, shakily grasping the corner of the console for support. "Major?" he stumbled forwards a few steps, and felt his foot strike something on the floor. Something that groaned and proceeded to curse loudly at him. There was the brief sound of the Major struggling to his feet and straightening out his uniform, although in the dark Dorian still couldn't see anything. "What happened?"

"How the hell should I know, Dummkopf!" Klaus snarled.

"We need to find the Doctor—"

The Major snorted, they both took a step forwards, and…

CRACK!

"Ouch!" Eroica winced, stumbling back and rubbing his forehead. "Watch where you're going!"

"_You _watch where _you're _going!" Klaus growled.

The TARDIS lights flooded on, not a moment too soon, to reveal the Doctor and Rose, also picking themselves up off the floor rather shakily. "Well, that was certainly a rough landing," the Doctor murmured, caressing his right shoulder gingerly.

"But where _are _we?" Dorian asked, casting the TARDIS a suspicious glance.

"Who knows?" the Doctor grinned from ear to ear. "It'll be a real adventure!"

Though slightly unnerved, Eroica found himself smiling back, grateful to see the Doctor was back to his old self, and the Major seemed to have forgotten, for the time being, his plan of shooting the Time Lord.

"Well, let's go have a look at the monitors, shall we?"

Rose walked to the console and flicked on the screen. A rugged landscape stretched out before them. Mountain ranges, steep and craggy, erupted throughout stretches of upland plains and scatterings of valleys, where sheep and goats peacefully grazed. The sea surrounded them, grey waves rising and crashing against hundreds of tiny islands, some mere shards of green and brown earth jutting from the waves.

"The Aegean Sea!" Dorian exclaimed at once.

The Major studied the monitor a moment longer with a scrutinizing expression, then nodded curtly in agreement, lighting a cigarette. "Gut. Means we're back on Earth."

"But we were just on Earth—" Eroica pointed out. Klaus merely snorted. Evidently, seventeenth century France had been alien _enough_ for the officer.

"Hmm…" the Doctor ran his hands over the control panel, flicking various switches and studying the given readings. "We may be on Earth, but…"

"What is it?" Rose asked, peering over his shoulder.

The Doctor pushed himself away from the main console and turned to face the group with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face. "Looks like we're in the thirteenth century this time."

For a moment, the three merely stared at him dumbly.

"The thirteenth…"

"…century…?"

"Oh, thirteenth century _BC,_" he added, altogether _too _cheerfully.

"The thirteenth century _BC?_" the Major choked, looking thoroughly horrified.

Eroica, however, clapped his hands together in sudden glee. "Oh my gosh, don't you see what this means! This is even further back than most historical records we have of ancient Greece. Most Greek historians focus on 490-323 BC. There isn't any writing or anything left from this far back, except for Linear B which is, of course, untranslatable..." he trailed off, upon noticing that Rose and the Major were both staring at him as though he had just sprouted an extra pair of arms. "Um. Well, all of the ancient myths and fables, like Homer's _Iliad_ and _The Odyssey_ were supposed to take place around this time…oh, come on! You must understand how incredibly—incredible!—this is!"

"Um…is that a school thing? Because I never really finished my A levels…" Rose said quietly.

The Major merely looked exasperated. "I don't see what's so 'incredibly incredible' about being in time before cigarettes and Nescafe!"

"Come on! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"The Earl is right!" the Doctor exclaimed happily, before the Major could respond. "This is fantastic, wouldn't you say?" he grinned at Dorian, positively beaming. "The ancient Greeks were amazing people—"

The Major snorted.

"—I mean _think _about it—! A smattering of people, tiny, really, inhabiting a land poor in resources, seventy-percent of which is covered in mountains that make travelling next to impossible, divided into hundreds of squabbling city-states…and yet they created one of the Earth's most remarkable cultures, remembered for _millennia_ after they had fallen!" the Time Lord concluded, looking absolutely ecstatic about their destination. The days earlier horrors seemed completely forgotten.

Eroica smiled back at him happily. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go out there—"

"Idiot! Don't you think we have more important things to be worrying about at the moment?" the Major demanded. "We need to get back to our time, and find out how to locate and stop our enemy, and—"

"Darling, there is no way I'm passing up this opportunity!" Dorian replied tartly, with a flippant toss of golden curls.

Since the Major looked ready to throttle Dorian, Rose seemed to think it was a good time to grab him by the arm and pull him out of the way, muttering something about 'period costumes.'

A moment later, they were walking through the long and twisting corridors of the TARDIS, but she had quickly fallen silent. "So…." Eroica began, smirking mischievously. "Did you enjoy your dance with a certain Doctor?"

She immediately broke into a huge smile, blushing furiously. "Maybe—I mean—oh, of _course_! And what about you? You and the Major were no where to be found after we started dancing…did you maybe get a dance of your own?"

"Well…Maybe," he replied, winking playfully.

She actually squealed, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck enthusiastically. With any other girl, it would have been extremely off-putting, but Rose was becoming like a little sister to him. And thank goodness she was fully dressed, unlike that horrible incident in Rome…

"Come on, let's go find our costumes," she said, pulling him out of his brief reverie, and grabbing his hand, she pulled him along the rest of the way.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Doctor had gone back to examining K-9's damaged circuitry, the Major had returned to the task of chain smoking, and seemed lost in thought. All in all, the Time Lord decided it would be both easiest and safest _not _to pry into whatever was bothering the officer, and instead concentrated on repairing the damaged automaton. A significant amount of progress had been made in repairing the main systems, and he had just begun to puzzle over how in the world he was going to go about mending the outer casing, when Rose and the Earl returned from the depths of the TARDIS.

"Well, how do I look?" she asked, smiling from ear to ear and positively beaming at him.

"Beautiful," he said. Because she was, flowing white and pale orange robes that ran like water across her skin, her golden hair done up in a braid, like a halo, wound around the top of her head, leaving a shower of gold, still, to run down her back.

He was so entranced that he almost failed to hear Lord Gloria turn to the Major and jokingly ask, "Well, darling, how do _I _look?"

The Major glowered. "Like an insane flaming wanker, same as always."

Eroica, of course, only laughed.

The Earl was dressed in an assortment of colourful gauzy robes, one of nearly iridescent orange covered in an intricate pattern of twisting golden lines was draped artfully over one shoulder and looped loosely through a thick blue belt. A truly bizarre lime-green cape-like piece covered his left arm, while the right remained bare, and his long golden curls were loose and free, and tumbled in a wild torrent down his shoulders, completed with a wreath of large white flowers that rested like a crown on his head. It was truly one of the most extravagant looking costumes the Doctor had ever seen, he hadn't even known he had _had _anything like that in the TARDIS! But then again, from Eroica, he should not have expected anything less.

"Well…let's get going," he offered finally, hoping that his own dark leather jacket and trousers, and the Major's uniform and trench coat wouldn't cause too much trouble.

They stepped from the TARDIS and the roar of the large grey and blue waves, churning and crashing into the fractured rocks along a jagged shoreline met them. The sky overhead was thick and grey, the wind carried the smell of the sea. The ground beneath their feet was thick with dirt and patches of long, tangled grass and weeds, jutting rocks and splintering crevices.

"This is the country Lord Byron referred to as the 'land of lost gods,'" Eroica mused quietly, gazing at the dark waters of the Aegean Sea. "The epic poems of Homer are filled with marvellous gods and fabulous monsters, I was always quite fond of them as a child, although I suppose the reality of it can't be nearly as romantic."

The Doctor noticed Major Eberbach turn to the Earl for a moment, but the German merely shook his head and started down a rocky and uneven path that sloped towards the seashore.

An elderly man was hobbling along the uneven trail towards them, a gnarled cane grasped in one skeletal hand, a thick but tattered old cloak draped over his shoulders and head. As the old man passed them, the Doctor noticed the startled look of amazement in the gentlemen's eyes as he came upon the TARDIS. The elder stumbled, nearly falling along the rock-laden, crooked path in his astonishment, when Eroica caught him gently by the shoulders and steadied him.

"Are you alright?"

"Why yes, thank you—" the old man's voice was raspy and hoarse, and it took a minute for him to focus on the Earl. "It's so good to see at least _some _of today's young people respect their elders. I—" the rasping voice gave way to a choked gasp of astonishment as the clouded grey eyes finally settled on the Englishman's face. "By the immortal gods…"

The Earl blinked, looking quite confused.

"I have not seen you around Iolcus before, who are you?" the old man continued.

"I'm called Eroica," the Earl replied easily.

The elder continued to stare at him. "Eros...Eroica...yes, that name suits you. You are surely beloved by the goddess Aphrodite, my lad…indeed, one would believe you to be a son of the Cyprian!"

"Oh…" this seemed to amuse the thief, he smiled warmly at the old man. "I get that sort of thing a lot! Thanks."

"Just a little bit narcissistic, aren't we?" Rose asked, amusedly.

"I can't help it if the ancient Greeks happened to worship physical beauty and I happen to be very, very beautiful," Eroica replied with a smirk.

The Major snorted loudly from where he stood, watching.

"I'm serious, I am one of Apollo's priests, you know. If you pay your respects to the gods, I am certain they will watch over you, especially."

The Earl smiled at the old man. "I assure you, my parents were no gods."

"Then someone must have lied to you!" the elder insisted.

Eroica's smile for the old man was beatific.

The Major rolled his eyes. Rose looked much amused. The Doctor merely smiled widely.

"It is a shame that you and your fellow travellers did not arrive in Iolcus earlier. A heroic youth by the name of Jason was looking for brave men to accompany him on a most grand journey. They actually left for Colchis, that land at the end of the world, where the Golden Fleece supposedly hangs in the garden of Ares. We're all hoping for Jason's success in the mission, and for him to return and take back his father's throne, but……. It is a shame indeed, I am certain a group such as yours could have helped them."

"You're talking about Jason? Jason and the Argonauts?" the Earl repeated in disbelief. "Why, that's incredible!"

The old priest looked at the group for a moment longer. "…Are you certain you travellers were not brought here by the gods, to aid our kingdom in its time of need? None of us wants that usurper and murderer, Pelias, to remain tyrant over these lands, but unless Jason is able to return…"

"Ooh! I can't believe this! We're actually in the time of 'Jason and the Argonauts!' I always knew there was some truth in those old myths!" Eroica babbled excitedly. "And just think—! The journey, the quest against sorcerers and dragons—the—"

"The history, the grandeur…?" the Major muttered, rolling his eyes and looking thoroughly irritable. It caused the thief, however, to break out into one of his sunniest smiles as he nodded.

"Mm. Exactly."

"Gott…"

"…You certainly seem…enthusiastic…" the old priest said finally, having watched the conversation with a thoroughly baffled expression. "But the Argo sailed many weeks and weeks ago…it is a shame…"

"Oh, I think we can catch them," the Doctor said, with a bright smile. "I happen to have a…ship of my own."

"But they left Iolcus months ago! And no ship could out sail the Argo, it's all quite impossible… Unless, of course…" the old priest studied them a moment longer, and then with a swift bow, turned and hurried away as fast as his shaking legs could carry him.

Rose looked after him sympathetically. "What was_ that_ about?"

"He's probably convinced he was just in the company of four of the Olympian gods, in human disguise," the Earl said, after thinking for a moment. "The old Greek legends are filled with such accounts, you know."

"I know," the Doctor replied, remembering his own prior adventures in ancient Greece all too well, when the locals had _insisted _he was Zeus! "I wouldn't be surprised if he tells his friends he saw the Olympians debating Jason's voyage."

"So, are we going to help these people?" Rose asked, looking to the Doctor. He knew what she was thinking: helping people was what they _did_, and they hadn't been doing much of it lately. Eroica also turned to him expectantly.

The Major was meanwhile smoking and scowling darkly, clearly thinking the entire ordeal would be complete and utter nonsense. The Doctor merely smiled and shrugged amicably. "Sure, why not? It could be fun."

"It is a waste of time!" the Major snapped.

"But we don't know where the enemy Time Lord is," Eroica said thoughtfully. "He has as much chance of being in ancient Greece as he does anywhere else, and the TARDIS did bring us _here_…"

"Let's get back in the TARDIS, then," the Doctor advised, seeing as how everything appeared to be decided. "Jason and the Argonauts are sailing for Colchis, which is located on the Black Sea. I say we beat them to it."

"Whatever. Let's just get this entire bout of idiocy over with as soon as possible," the Major said, already half-way back to the police box.

The Doctor merely sighed and shook his head. "One day he's going to have to learn to enjoy his life a little," _even with the threat of the complete dissolution of the universe hanging over our heads,_ but he didn't add that part aloud, as he didn't think it would help his case much.

Dorian was merely nodding in agreement. "Welcome to my world, Doctor…"

Rose laughed, "Come on, back to the TARDIS, then, boys!"

"I just hope she takes us where we want to go this time," Eroica added, regarding the police box warily for a moment.

"No worries," the Doctor grinned, stepping in after the Major and holding the door open for Lord Gloria and Rose.

"No worries," the Earl agreed, as he and Rose stepped inside the blue box, the wooden door falling shut behind them as the Doctor moved his arm out of the way.

"Fantastic."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The TARDIS materialized with its usual distinctive pulsating drone, that humming sound, which was almost a purr, if time-travelling space-ships disguised as phone boxes _could_ purr. Knowing everything else he knew about the remarkable machine by now, though, purring wouldn't have surprised him. After all, the damn thing was ruddy _telepathic_, translating the ancient Greek into modern German for him, English for Eroica and the girl, and God-only-knows-what for the alien. It might as well purr, too, if just to add to the bloody nonsense.

The Major scowled, partly because he wanted another cigarette, badly, and his hands kept moving to the pockets where he kept them, but he couldn't smoke since it would probably cause some sort of mass panic or riot among the primitive people. Primitive being Klaus' word, not the Doctor's. The Doctor seemed positively delighted by the ancients as his eyes darted around them excitedly and he grinned, absolutely annoyingly, at everything and everyone they past.

The Major's scowl deepened.

Miss Tyler appeared captivated by the brightly coloured costumes, the youthful clean-shaven men clad only in crude, inappropriate kilts! Although he himself was growing more than a little uncomfortable in his layers of uniform and trench coat under the hot sun, the heat was certainly _no _excuse for not going about properly—and that meant _fully_—clothed at all times!

He caught himself glancing at the Earl, and was momentarily surprised that the foppish thief appeared less interested in the crowds of barely-covered lean young men, then he did in examining the statues that lined the street corners, and the ancient buildings, now in their prime, glistening with brightly-coloured paints, the hot sunlight revealing them real and whole, vibrant and alive rather than the cracked, broken, faded lingering memories they would become by the twentieth century.

"You know, the ancient Greeks viewed Colchis as a vastly rich kingdom filled with gold and rare jewels. I'm certain that there—"

"—is something you would like to steal," the Major finished dryly. This earned him a surprised look from not only the thief, but also the Doctor and Miss Tyler, who stopped walking and turned around to stare—practically gape—at him.

"Why, darling…you do know me so well!" the Earl exclaimed after a moment's pause.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out what a thief would want with a bunch of priceless treasures, idiot!"

This seemed to satisfy the girl and the alien, who turned back to the bustling streets of ancient Colchis. Eroica, however, continued to stare at him, those wide sky-blue eyes fixed into that look—_that _look, that Klaus had always resented. No, not _resented_, not quite. It had always made him uncomfortable. From the mess on the Michelangelo, to the balcony and the strange alien sunset, and especially so _now_, after everything the past few days had led him to realize.

_Especially _now, that look could bother him.

Klaus suddenly felt an irrational wave of—what? Fear? No, it couldn't be that, though something very, very near it—rise up in his gut at the thief's prolonged gaze. For one terrifying moment, he thought _it must be obvious! Everything I've come to realize—it's written all over my face! He can tell! _Of course, Klaus had _kissed _the thief, however briefly, in the TARDIS medical bay, when he had thought, honestly and horribly, that Eroica was going to die. And he hadn't even _thought _about it. Not then, or since, and then there had been that whole bloody mess in Versailles that never should have happened…

_He's laughing at me!_

The Major felt his face flush hot with anger or embarrassment, he didn't want to think which, and suddenly, like a great shadow slamming down on him from high above, he felt _and _heard, again, the old, terrible, bitter truth of the universe. The mantra from his lonely childhood:

_Everyone hates you._

_Everyone is just _waiting _for a _reason _to hate you._

Even Eroica, for all his claims of 'love' and 'romance' was just waiting for a moment to seize his weakness and mock and torment him. And it would never end. Because it was obvious, it had to be obvious, after everything that happened to them since they'd gone into that damned building in Russia. And suddenly, he was both angry at Eroica, and disgusted with himself, and he hated the Doctor, and the TARDIS, and whole damn universe, and the blackness seemed to be engulfing him everywhere when—

"Major?" Eroica was looking at him strangely, curiously. "Is everything quite alright?"

_Now you love him, and he mocks you._

All in all, he was too far gone to even register his snarled reply of "_NEIN, you sick-fucking-faggot!_" as he brushed past the Earl, using excessive force to roughly shove the slender Englishman out of his path.

A part of his mind was still expecting to hear Eroica's biting laughter following after him. A part of his mind was faintly surprised when it didn't come.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Rose winced at the sound of the Major yelling in the background, she couldn't understand the words, but the tone was—"God, is that man _always _angry?"

The Doctor merely smiled, that glimpse of _knowing_, just instinctively, more than normal people. Or maybe it was the result of nine-hundred years of experience. Rose studied the profile of the man walking next to her, his eyes were wandering over the smooth marble giants that towered above them on either side of the street, and the groups of merchants and farmers, with their displays of vegetables and animal skins, and pottery. His gaze darted across the busy scenes of the marketplace, his expression flickering around amusement and excitement, grinning widely. He certainly didn't _look _nine-hundred years old.

She still had a difficult time believing that _she_, Rose Tyler, was really there, walking through the streets of a city that had fallen to ruin, been lost, been forgotten centuries before her birth. "Doctor…" she found herself stepping closer to him, the throng of plebeian merchants pushing them together, but also, she just…wanted to be there.

Her hand found his unconsciously, her slender fingers sliding easily between his, feeling the faint brush of the calluses, the strangely sharp yet enveloping warmth where they made contact. The feeling of safety, the reassurance that the Doctor was there, and real, and no matter what happened…

The smell of the sea was in the air, the summer sky a magnificent blue above them, cloudless, bright. All around them, people laughed and shouted and sang, people who would be dead, dead and forgotten, in her own time, with the TARDIS, in the blink of an eye.

Rose felt the same heaviness tighten in her chest that she had felt when the Doctor had first taken her away in the blue box, to the end of the world. She had looked out at the stars, and the sun, and the _Earth_, all stretched out before her, and had been overwhelmed by the thought: _it's five billion years in the future…and my mother is dead. Mickey is dead. Everyone I know is dead. And no one here will remember—or care—what happened to a human being five billion years ago._

In seconds to her, seconds to the Doctor, everyone walking, laughing, living, _now_, would all be lost in the relentless stream of time. They all would be lost. And now would remember them...

Without realizing it, she had leaned her head softly against the Doctor's shoulder. The leather jacket was warm, and solid, and for a moment, she could stop thinking about the rush of time and space and the erasure of the individual in the infinite.

"Rose?"

She could feel him stiffen in surprise when she leant against him, and she could picture, so adorable, his baffled expression, trying to look down at her, but she merely tightened her arm around his and pulled herself closer.

"Don't ever leave me here."

There was an almost perceptible beat of silence, before he asked, sounding far too amused, "In Colchis?"

But she laughed despite herself and skipped away from him, shaking her head as she went. "In time."

"Time?" he looked genuinely surprised at that.

She laughed again, because he was there, with her, and punched his arm playfully. "Not without you."

He smiled at her affectionately and shook his head, as though amused. "Come on then, let's find the—"

"Rose."

A different voice.

Rose turned to see a woman standing beside her, in the shadows of the nearby stone building, a heavy red shawl draped over her shoulders and head, obscuring her face in the shadows. In one hand she clasped laurel leaves.

"Rose."

A thick scent hung in the air around the cloaked woman, like smoke and incense and something else that Rose could not quite place. The din of the crowd around her suddenly seemed to fall away, the burning sun dulled, and the movement in the world around her seemed to be pushed backwards, so that there was nothing else in that place, at that time, apart from Rose and…

"I am called the Pythia," the woman said, the faintest hint of amusement in her voice.

There was a jarring flash, and for a moment, Rose had the wildly disconcerting feeling of being somewhere dark, underground, pitched into thick darkness. The air was thick with smoke and incense, which did nothing to mask the foul-smell of the vapours.

Gasping for breath, she stumbled backwards, pushing herself away from the stranger, and the illusion wavered. She could sense the crowded streets of Colchis around her, the sun shining, although it seemed distant, as though a veil had been cast over her, muting the rest of the world. In confusion, she looked back to the woman in red, and the streets of Colchis fell away.

The woman called Pythia no longer stood in the shadows of a stone building, but sat regally atop a golden tripod, settled on the rocks over a spring, the water dark below her. The deep blood-red robes that draped over her shoulders were pooled in billowing folds in her lap, and she leaned forwards slightly, her voice sound like the voice of many.

"Rose. We have travelled very far, indeed. Rose."

With a start, Rose felt something in her hands, and looking down, saw that she was clasping a long, coiling branch of laurel leaves in a tight grip. "Who are you?" she asked, in a hoarse whisper. She felt her heart racing in her chest, and her hands, grasping the leaves, shook.

Pythia smiled at this, her mouth the only part of her face that was visible to Rose, the lips painted a bright red. "You will find your enemy waiting for you in Colchis."

Beneath her tall golden tripod, an ominous crack in the dark earth of the mountain was torn, and the fumes and gases sprayed in a thick torrent from the opening.

"What?" Rose looked at her in confusion. No matter how hard she tried, she could not force herself to turn away. She could no longer see through the darkness of the cave to the bright, crowded streets of the living. She could no longer see the Doctor, although she felt he was close. Trapped in a dream, she could only stare at her captor in horror. "What do you know about our—"

"Just remember one thing, Rose. If your wishes are to be granted, then all of your dreams must be destroyed."

Before she could speak, the wind rose, impossibly, from the depths of the cave, slamming against her, pushing her backwards. She felt the wind pulling her hair and the long robes of her costume fluttering out around her. The smell of the caves rose into her mind, paralyzing her as the shadows of the caves were torn away, the ground ripped out from beneath her, and the Pythia, the Oracle, was receding, fading like a ghost.

Fighting against the torrent, her eyes watering as she tried to keep them open, Rose shouted, "Wait! Who are you—"

But the illusion was gone.

"Rose?"

The ground seemed to tilt sharply beneath her. The air felt different, so much lighter, that for a second, she was near delirium with the sensation of weightlessness, and the colours, so much brighter—for a moment, all of it was lost in a blanket of blind whiteness as her eyes blinked and refocused.

"Rose?"

The sounds began to wash over her, in waves, rising and falling, crashing down on her ears. People were screaming.

People were screaming and running past her. The Colchis she had reawakened in wasn't the one she had left behind. A young woman knocked into her sharply, and Rose turned to see her disappear into a crowd of fleeing merchants and peasants. She shook her head, staggering slightly when she tried to move.

"Rose!"

The Doctor. Looking up, Rose searched for his face in the mass chaos of the crowd. But all around her, the mess of coloured robes, tanned flesh and hair obscured all else. A young couple running slammed into her, and Rose stumbled backwards. She tried to back up against the wall of the building behind her, but instead crashed into more of the fleeing merchants, and was knocked back into the crowd.

"Doctor?"

Rose felt her knees strike the earth and the air was momentarily knocked from her lungs as the crowd moved around her, over her, until it thinned and vanished. As the air began to still, she raised her head shakily—and found herself face to face with a battalion of armed warriors.

"You are not a maiden of Colchis," the warrior spoke in a bellowing voice, glaring down at her. Behind him, a dozen warriors bore lances, pointed menacingly at her, their steel blades glaring in the harsh light of the sun. "Who did you come with?" the knight demanded. "Where are the rest of the invaders?"

"I—Invaders?"

She looked from the man standing before her, back to the readied weapons, not daring to move to stand up. All men were dressed in steel chain-mail from head to foot, with shields and swords strapped to their arms and their backs.

"Don't play dumb with me, girl! King Aetes is not particularly fond of uninvited guests in his kingdom, as all the world well knows!"

"Well _I _didn't!" she snapped back as one of the men pointed the tip of his lance directly at her throat. "You can't just—"

"Oh, but I can!" the Colchian guard growled. Rose felt herself lifted off the ground, an iron-like grip around her throat. A moment of wild panic threatened to overwhelm her as she kicked her feet desperately and found only empty air, and her lungs burned in her chest as the sharp clench around her neck tightened.

"Unhand that maiden that wears Minoan dress, and has the golden hair of Aphrodite and Demeter!"

The world spun sharply as Rose fell back to the ground, the air rushing back into her lungs and her knees buckling against the earth. She gasped for breath, one hand instinctively moving to her throat.

"Who in Tartarus are you?" the officer spat angrily.

Still gasping slightly, Rose also raised her gaze to see who her defender was. For a moment, she thought she was looking at Dorian, but no, he was thinner, his long yellow hair lacked the radiant gleam of Erocia's golden curls, and his face was thinner, angular, his skin richly tanned. On his head he wore a helmet, and a large circular shield was fastened to his left arm. He had a sword drawn and ready. Behind him, a large group of men had gathered, each bearing swords or lances and looking prepared to fight.

"I am Jason, son of Aeson, and I have sailed from Iolcus with these men, the Argonauts."

"So _you're _the invading scum!" the Colchian warrior snarled. Without waiting for a reply, the warrior leapt forwards, lunging at Jason like a wild beast.

Jason nimbly side-stepped the attack, and brought his own sword down swiftly through the soldier's neck. The body fell suddenly limp to the ground, red blood splattering against the earth and tarnishing the blade of Jason's sword.

For a moment, Rose found herself staring numbly at the dead body, and the thick pool of blood forming beneath it. In her travels with the Doctor she had seen death before, she had seen people she had come to regard as friends die, but this was altogether different, brutal and filthy on an entirely different level of reality. It seemed that the Colchian guards had been stunned for a moment as well, as they watched their leader fall so easily to the alien youth.

And then in a rage, they attacked. The Argonauts were strong men, more than capable of defending themselves in a fight, and the sound of steel clashing rang out clearly as weapons met and men gave bestial cries of battle. Rose stared at it all in confusion and horror, she cringed from the piercing screams of the Colchian warriors as their arms were hewn crudely off by the Greek swords, and lances broke through leather cuirasses and tore apart men's shoulders in a thick spray of blood.

Then, one of the warriors caught sight of her. She felt it first, with a sort of primitive survival instinct, and twisted around in time to see him lunge for her. Crawling out of the way, she heard the soldier grunt as he sprawled in the dirt and began towards her, the sounds of the battle still raging all around them. Desperately, Rose crawled to where the body of the Colchian officer lay, and grasped the handle of his broad sword in both hands.

By this time, the warrior was almost upon her, she turned back to face him with the sword clasped unconfidently in front of her. The brute grinned at her, a sick sort of demented smile, several of his teeth were missing, and a trail of spit dribbled down his chin.

"Now, now sweetie, no need to be so—"

She slammed the flat edge of the blade into the side of his head with all her might. The resounding ring rang up shrilly over the marketplace, and he toppled to the ground. Taking a shaky breath, Rose allowed the weapon to slide from her grasp, as she stood.

Instantly, an arm grabbed her around the waist, hauling her backwards, and she felt the bitingly cold steel of a sword against her throat. Panic seized her as she felt the blade bite into her skin, and her heart slammed painfully and then—

"Let her go," a familiar German voice commanded loudly. "_Now._"

"You want to fight me?" the man holding her laughed shrilly. "You don't even have a sword!"

Rose finally opened her eyes in time to see the Major smirk. It was possibly the most unsettling sight she had ever seen. A moment later, the Colchian released his grip on her and turned to the Major.

It happened so quickly, Rose barely saw any of it. The warrior swung widely with his weapon, and the Major caught the arm in a tight grasp, twisting it back until the Colchian dropped his sword. The Major's fist smashed into the warrior's jaw, and sent the man sprawling backwards, a thick spray of blood erupting from his shattered mouth. He crashed against the earth and lay still.

By this time, the fighting around them had mostly stopped, and the Major barely even glanced at her to see if she was alright. Feeling a little snubbed, Rose frowned as Jason approached them. "You are not from Colchis," the handsome young man said, it was not a question. "Nor are you from Iolcus."

She smiled uneasily. "No…well, that is, you see, I came here with some friends—"

"Travellers this far into the world of heroes is rare," the young warrior said musingly. "And who is your companion, who fights like the son of an immortal?"

The Major fixed Jason with a level glare. "I am Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach."

"…And I'm Rose Tyler," she added, looking uneasily from the Major back to Jason.

"Strange names…" he commented, giving them a curious glance. "And you," he added, looking pointedly at Klaus, "Your clothes are _very _odd."

"What!" the Major sputtered, looking thoroughly outraged. "This is a standard—"

"NATO uniform?" a silky voice purred behind them. "Darling, they aren't going to understand that. After all, NATO won't exist for another couple millennia."

"Eroica," the Major acknowledged dryly, not even turning to look at the thief.

"_There _you all are!" the Doctor added, and Rose turned to see him walking towards them. "Sorry to have missed all the action. Have you ever tried running in _one _direction while a few hundred panicked civilians are running in the _other_? 'S not fun."

"No, I wouldn't recommend it, either," the Earl mused, brushing some dirt off his robes. When he raised his head, he caught sight of the Argonauts and smiled widely. "Ooh, my handsome lad must be Jason," he all but purred.

"Eroica!" the Major growled.

"I was just saying 'hello,'" the Earl replied, looking slightly put-off.

"You were—"

They were interrupted by the sound of chariot wheels grinding over the roadway, and horses hooves crashing against the dirt. "What is that?" Rose asked, as the entire group turned to see the approach of a dozen golden chariots drawn by snow-white stallions, an armed guard surrounding them.

The largest, most elaborate chariot stopped before their group, and a tall broad-shouldered man dressed in robes made of a rich golden fabric stepped down. He carried a jewelled sceptre in one large hand, and the rays of his crown flashed like fire in the hot light of the sun.

"I am Aetes," he spoke in a loud rumbling voice, a voice that could command armies. "King of Colchis. Word of the trouble you are causing in my lands has spread to my palace, and I have come to see for myself what sort of _fool _would dare to land at the shore of Cutaia, knowing my laws against invaders and my noble warriors who never tire of battle."

"Your men are hardly 'noble' when they're attacking defenceless maidens!" Jason replied, drawing himself up to face King Aetes with the proud stance of a warrior. "But you have no cause to attack my party, we are not savage barbarians here to slaughter your peasants and enslave your women-folk. We are travellers sent by my uncle Pelias, the Minoan king, Lord of Iolcus."

"Oh really? And what has King Pelias sent you here to accomplish, idiot youth? Can you not see that my men greatly outnumber yours—if you try to attack us, you won't have crew enough to make it back to Iolcus, even if you should survive!"

Eroica was watching the growing argument with obvious delight, apparently too caught up in the history and the grandeur—and, Rose noticed, eyeing the Sun King's sparkling crown—to notice the danger they were in, caught in the middle between the two groups.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, King Aetes turned his gaze in their direction. "And who are you, strange foreign woman that my men are accused of assaulting?" he took a step towards her, menacingly. "Then again, maybe they had the right idea," he reached out and grabbed her chin, jerking her face towards his. She felt a rush of revulsion and tried to back away, but he held on fast.

Unexpectedly, it was the Major who stepped between them, knocking the large king's arm to the side as though it were a twig. "Back off. There's nothing more pathetic than a perverted old fool like you harassing an unarmed civilian."

"Who do you think you are? Don't you realize who I am?" the king demanded angrily.

"Ja…" the Major said slowly, studying the ostentatious monarch and his soldiers for a long moment. "…A loud, blithering idiot."

Rose had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud, but then she saw the unusually grave expression on the Doctor's face, and even Eroica looked a bit horrified. "Major, darling, he is the King, you know…" the Earl attempted, looking a little weakly at the offended army, many of whom were drawing their swords.

The King himself was clearly bursting with anger, he had probably never been so insulted in his entire life. His face was burning and his fists shook with rage. "You…bastards. I'll have you skinned alive! I'll have you cut up and fed to the dragon! I'll feed you alive to the dragon! I'll—"

"Father, wait—!" a young woman stepped down from one of the golden chariots. Another girl stood in the chariot, watching her pensively. Beside them, stood a tall man entirely cloaked in a long black cape with a hood hiding his face, but he was clearly observing everything closely.

"Sister, don't be foolish—"

"Be quiet, Calciope!" the princess turned back to her father, looking at him imploringly. She was very beautiful, long raven-black hair falling thickly over her shoulders and framing a pale ivory face, her eyes large, dark and soft. Numerous veils of different colours were wound about her shoulders and head, but they had slipped loose when she leapt from the chariot and were caught in the wind rising all around her. "Please, father, you mustn't kill them—they are only poor travellers, ignorant of our customs and ways…"

Rose saw the princess' gaze move over them and rest longingly on Jason for a long minute before she returned her attention to her father, the king. "Please, father, at least hear them out. We do not yet know why they have sailed from Iolcus, and Pelias _is _a son of Poseidon, it would not do to murder his nephew without reason."

King Aetes regarded his daughter for a long moment. "Medea," he spoke finally. "You have always been a wise child, and I know you have special knowledge of the gods and their ways…therefore," he turned to glare at Jason and the Argonauts. "I shall listen to your advice. Why then, Minoan warriors, have you come to these lands?"

"As I've said, we are not here to fight!" Jason shouted. "We come for the Golden Fleece, a treasure that rightfully belongs to the people of Iolcus." Jason did look handsome as he spoke in a commanding tone, the rays of sunlight blazing off his long golden hair, and slick, tanned chest. For a minute, Rose could fully understand the princess' obvious infatuation with the warrior, until she remembered the Doctor standing beside her, and reached out to hold his hand tightly.

"You want…the Golden Fleece?" King Aetes replied, clearly to surprised to be angry. "The sacred fleece that I hung in the garden of Ares, have guarded by a dragon, a maze of poisonous wood, and a grand fortress with walls nine ells high? And you expect me to just…give it to you? You, an ignorant stranger who has appeared from nowhere on some woebegone quest?"

Jason looked genuinely surprised at hearing his heroic journey so surmised. He stared at the grand son of Helios and his army with wide eyes and said simply: "Yes."

The King stared back at him for a moment, and fire flashed in his eyes, but then the anger seemed to be overwhelmed by the absolute idiocy of the entire situation, and the Colchian king's shoulders trembled as he laughed loudly in the Argonaut's face.

Jason looked stunned, he turned to his men in confusion, but it was Eroica who spoke up to him.

"We could help, you know," Dorian offered, flipping a wave of golden curls back over his shoulder.

"No, we _need _to help," Rose said quickly, earning inquisitive looks from her friends. In a hushed voice she told them what she had seen before the Colchian soldiers attacked. "I don't know how to explain it, but there was this woman…"

"What? Who was she?" the Major demanded. "Was she with the enemy?"

"I don't know!" Rose gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know who she was, or how she knew what did, but she said that our enemy would be waiting for us in Colchis!"

"I don't like this," the Doctor said quietly. "Time is being tampered with. We have to find this man soon, and if he _is _me from the future…."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Eroica interjected, turning back to the waiting Argonauts. "We _will _help you!"

"Yes, I think you could," said Jason thoughtfully.

One of the Argonauts, a long-haired youth with a cape and a lyre clasped under his arm stepped forwards. "I think this youth looks like he could be a son of the Cyprian herself, or Apollo, perhaps" he said, gesturing to Dorian and echoing the sentiments of the old priest they had met earlier. "And this other warrior, the oddly dressed one, we've seen him fight like an offshoot of Ares. We've already lost many of our original party, having these four join us would not be a bad idea."

"Well put, Orpheus. Very well," Jason said, turning back to Eroica. "We will allow you to join us, if you can help us retrieve the Golden Fleece for my people."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile, Princess Medea was speaking with her father. "It would be cruel and barbaric to slaughter them—and what will the people say if you turn this brave warrior away without giving him a _chance _to fulfill his journey? They'll say you are a coward, for there is no way he could succeed even if you _did _give him a chance."

For a second, Aetes looked as though he were once again becoming possessed with a rage, but then he controlled himself and asked through gritted teeth, "And what do you suggest I do, daughter?"

Medea looked thoughtful and spoke slowly. "I think you should tell Jason that…you will give him a set of labours to accomplish, and as a reward for the labours you will grant him the Golden Fleece!"

"But I can't—"

"My king, if I may interrupt…" the cloaked man spoke for the first time. Aetes and his daughter both turned to regard the stranger, whose dark hood hid his face. The stranger had appeared to them only a few days earlier. Medea shivered when he spoke, there was something abnormal about the man, his spirit felt cold and alien, and the aura she perceived around him was entirely black, heartless and dark. But her father had taken to the mysterious stranger and listened eagerly to his advice.

"Yes, yes, do you have an idea? Out with it!"

The cloaked man seemed to be smiling, even if they could not see his face. "You will tell Jason to complete a set of tasks…but the tasks will be impossible! Don't worry, I'll take care of that."

King Aetes smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Come to my palace tomorrow at sunrise, Jason," King Aetes told the Argonauts with a dark smile. "I will give you a set of tasks to complete by dark and should you be successful in them, I will give you the fleece as a reward."

So saying, the Sun King climbed back into his golden chariot and his daughters and the cloaked advisor followed. A moment later, the King gave loud ringing orders, and the horses and chariots turned and rode away from the town.

The Argonauts had fallen silent at the strange announcement and now turned to their young leader in confusion. "What do we do now?" Orpheus asked, sitting on the ground and arranging the lyre in his lap, his brow furrowed in thought.

"The tasks are sure to be extremely hard, probably requiring the strength of ten men or so," another of the warriors pointed out, most _un_helpfully.

"If only we hadn't left Herakles on that island when he went to rescue his friend from certain death…" another of the Argonauts added, looking significantly at their leader for a moment. "You know, he could have done the labours in a snap. It was sort of his area, after all."

"Now, now, there's no need to get nasty, boys," Eroica smiled. "I have a fairly good idea of what we can expect, and who will help you…"

"…Medea," Rose said softly, and Dorian looked at her in surprise.

"I thought you didn't know the story of Jason and the Argonauts!"

"Well, I mean…the way she looked at him, like you said about…" _me and the Doctor. She's in love with him._

The Minoans were watching with a sort of perplexed expression, but then Orpheus spoke. "Medea? I have heard of her, she is supposedly a great and powerful witch."

"That princess?" Jason asked, a grin slowly appearing on his face. "You think she could be persuaded to help us…?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dorian walked down the slightly sloping trail that led from the small Colchian town to the seashore. The path wound its way along the side of a cliff that cut sharply away, and was overgrown with tall grasses and tangled bushes that crawled over the smooth rocks that broke out of the dirt. The sun was setting over the Black Sea, casting shimmering reds and oranges to dance in the water and the sky. There was a slight wind rising up from the water, that blew his golden curls over his shoulders pleasantly.

Somewhere, the Doctor and Rose were making camp with the Argonauts, and the Major was reluctantly following him. "I want to make sure you don't do something stupid. Like try and steal Aetes' crown."

"Darling, I'm touched!"

"Don't be an idiot! You're likely to cause trouble for all of us!"

"Hmmm…" Dorian came to a stop on a small ledge, watching the brilliant red sunset and feeling the wind in his hair. "You know," he gave the Major a coy glance. "The ancient Greeks were a unique culture in many ways…did you know that rather than persecuting or shunning homosexuals, the ancient Greeks actually encouraged—"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear your perverted babbling!" the Major snapped, tossing one cigarette to the ground and quickly fishing in his pocket for a replacement.

"Now, now, darling, there's no need to be so stroppy," Dorian objected, putting on his best pouting face. "You're the one who kissed _me_ last time, after all."

That did it. The Major's face instantly lost all its colour, and the mosel-green eyes became both small and wide. For a second, Dorian was afraid Klaus was going to fall right off the edge of the cliff, but then the Major began to breathe again, and quickly fixed the Earl with an angry glare. "That was—that _wasn't_—"

"What?" Dorian asked, leaning very intentionally into Klaus' personal space, near enough to feel his beloved's breath on his face…near enough to kiss.

"A mistake!" the Major yelled, looking thoroughly panicked. He began to turn sharply away, but Dorian caught him by the shoulders roughly.

"No, it wasn't, and neither is this." Dorian reached forwards and, catching the Major's neck in his hands, drew him into a deep kiss. He felt the thick raven-hair tangled beneath his hands, and held tightly as he pressed his mouth hungrily into the Major', devouring his lower lip and slowly pressing his tongue against the Major's mouth. To his surprise, the lips parted for him, and he found himself completely lost in the warm taste of cigarettes and skin and…

When he finally forced himself to pull back, he reluctantly released his hold on Klaus and found himself waiting for a minute, to see if the Major was going to hit him. But the expected blow never came, and Dorian finally opened his eyes to see the Major looking at him with a pale face, an expression more blank than frightened, but more alarmed than angry.

"Major…_Klaus_…"

"Dorian, Major!" the Doctor's voice called from the top of the path.

"Damn it, not _now_," Dorian muttered, but when he turned to see the Doctor he found the Time Lord looking pale and worried. He hurried down the path towards them. "It's Rose—"

"What?"

"She's gone," the Doctor's face looked grave and his eyes were dark and worried. "King Aetes' men have got her."

**To be Continued in Episode 09: All That Glitters Part I**


	9. Episode 09: All That Glitters Part I

**Episode 09: All that Glitters Part I**

It was a cruelty of existence consistent throughout the whole of the universe, thought the Doctor, that human and Time Lord alike should be forced to always remember the past. For the past to shape who they were in the present. What they were in the present.

Miserable.

An explosion, a blaze of hell slashing out across the galaxy. A blaze of fire, like blood rippling through space and across time. The screams of millions, as an entire world was ripped apart before his very eyes.

Used.

A dark room, long in the past. A memory never returned to and never forgotten. A horrifying stranger. An indifferent family. A loss of innocence. Violation.

Frightened.

A little girl who would never know her father, except to watch him die, lying on the pavement just a block away from the home he would never return to.

Alone.

A man trained to kill, to be ruthless so that the rest of the free world might go on, trained to block the memories when they became to overwhelming for their carnage and darkness. A gradual hardening of the heart and soul.

Perhaps the universe would end because they, none of them, really wanted it to continue.

_Are we doing this to ourselves, because we can not let go of the past?_

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Rose is gone. King Aetes' guards have her," the Doctor said, his voice grave and pained. He looked away, his eyes falling on the dark, crashing waves of the Black Sea. "Every time she comes with me, I almost get her killed."

Eroica smiled, much to the annoyance of the Major, Jason, and the Argonauts, who were taking the situation very seriously. "The key word there is 'almost,' Doctor. And she _chooses_ to come with you, after all. I'm sure you couldn't leave her behind if you tried!"

"So, let's get her back then," a strong voice declared from deep within the ranks of the Greek warriors.

"That sounded like a woman," the Major said, frowning.

The Argonauts slowly stepped to one side, to reveal the figure of a striking female warrior. She stood a foot taller than Jason, her long dark hair falling in thick ebony curls down her back. Her shoulders were covered in petal-shaped pieces of armour, thick leather gauntlets adorned her forearms, and a sword was fastened to her belt. She stared at them with a look of cool determination.

"Oh, Atalanta, of course. I'd forgotten about her," Eroica said after a moment's pause. "As you can imagine, she didn't hold my interest as much as some of the other Argonauts."

The Major glared at him. "Pervert."

Atalanta regarded them coldly. "Well? Are we going to stand here all day, or are we going to save your wife?"

The Doctor stared at her in surprise. "My? My wife—! No, no, Rose isn't my _wife_! Why does everyone think we're a couple?"

"You mean you're not?" Eroica asked, baffled. "I thought since what happened in Vers—"

"Well, what—is it written on my forehead?" the Doctor exclaimed.

The Earl looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, actually it is pretty obvio—"

"Alright, alright," the Time Lord sighed in defeat.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The crashes of armoured boots striking the soft marble floors of the fortress-castle rose like thunder, shaking the walls and pillars. The Major, Atalanta, and Jason took the lead of the party; Jason brandishing a sword, the Major using the strength of his fists to clear their path of Colchian guards.

A dozen of the brutal warriors swarmed upon them at once, screaming for blood. Dorian turned swiftly, bringing the sword Orpheus had lent him up in defence. The raw, brutal force of the Colchian's strike knocked him off balance, threatening to force the weapon from his grasp.

"The way these barbarians fight lacks the elegance and nobility of Renaissance fencing—"

"What do you expect? The Code of Chivalry?" the Major snapped back, delivering a killing blow to the guard's temple. There was a sickening crunch, and the man crumpled to the floor.

Eroica averted his eyes from the ghastly sight. He was normally better with a sword, but in this case—

Another of the barbaric warriors lunged for him, this one grabbing a deep handful of Eroica's lustrous golden curls and pulling the Earl off his feet. He couldn't help the scream that escaped his lips at the sudden sharp pain, and quickly twisted one of his wrists around to reach the thin dagger tucked into his belt.

A moment later, his attacker released him, screaming in pain and clutching his mutilated hand. Eroica straightened and shook out his mane with an air triumph.

Klaus, standing next to him, blinked in surprise. "I don't think I've ever seen you look so angry, Herr Dieb."

Dorian's only response to that was to sniff a little in disdain and toss his hair.

At that moment, the second assault hit them. The Major was knocked to the floor, wrestling one of the warriors, and two lunged for the thief. The Doctor yelled out a warning, but was forced away by another soldier. Jason and Atalanta were fighting back-to-back, fending off a group, the clanging cries of their swords reverberating off the castle walls.

Eroica jumped backwards, trying to avoid his attackers, but stumbled on the uneven stone flooring. One of the guards caught his arm in a bruising grip and slammed him into the hard stone wall. He tried to struggle, but a sharp blow to the back of his head seemed to knock all the strength from his body. The guard pulled his head back, and Dorian shuddered as he felt the edge of a dagger dig painfully into his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, a cold chill running through his body.

The next thing he knew, there was a muffled cry of pain and the weight of his attacker pinning him to the wall vanished. The dagger fell clattering to the floor, and Dorian dropped to his knees, shakily touching his unmarred neck.

When his eyes focused again, he saw Atalanta standing triumphant over the guards' bodies, her sword smeared with thick blood, and the slightest of smirks playing on her lips. "And you didn't want to bring a _woman _on the quest," she said to Jason.

"Ah—well—" the young leader of the Argonauts shifted uncomfortably at the sight of her blood-splattered armour and turned back to the maze-like halls of Aetes' palace. "We better hurry and find your wife, Doctor."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Let GO!" Rose yelled angrily, struggling against the iron grip of the Colchian guards. They had grabbed her just outside of the Argonaut's camp and dragged her back to the palace of King Aetes. The fortress-castle was monolith and huge, with gleaming walls of white marble and roofs of solid gold that blazed in the light of the sun.

But she hardly had time to appreciate the majesty of the scenery with the brutish soldiers dragging her inside.

"The King will be pleased," the captain mused. "Those Minoan bastards were altogether too arrogant in his presence. They need to be taught to respect their betters."

"Shall we send her back to them piece by piece?" one of the guards holding her sneered.

"Well, that would be a waste, wouldn't it?" the Captain smirked, leaning uncomfortably close to her.

Rose felt nauseated.

She stepped on his foot. Hard. The captain let out an angry roar of pain and the guard holding her released his grip in fright. Taking this as her one and only opportunity, Rose slammed backwards into her captor, knocking him off balance, and darted out of his reach.

Her heart pounding, Rose tore away from the mob of enraged soldiers, and began running down the long castle corridors. But the warriors were right on her heels, their hairy fists reaching for her. The hallway turned sharply just ahead of her, and she had the barest glimpse of long white robes and sombre-coloured veils before colliding with Princess Medea. Both women fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Within seconds, Aetes' men had them surrounded, lances and swords drawn and pointed dangerously at Rose's neck. She looked up at them dizzily from the hard marble floor and groaned. So much for the escape plan.

Beside her, the Princess was picking herself up off the floor, fixing her displaced shawl and veil and straightening the long white gown that flowed elegantly down her slim figure. Rose saw the surprised look in those wide dark eyes when they fixed on her. "You…you were with—You are one of the Argonauts, are you not?"

"Well…I guess you could say that," Rose answered uncertainly, eyeing the cruel blades of her captor's swords uncomfortably.

Medea, who was following her gaze, immediately turned to the Captain with an angry glare. "And I suppose you brought her here, didn't you? Think you could impress my father by harassing the group we've just made a tentative peace with?"

The knights looked uneasily to their leader, who appeared startled by the Princess' sharp words. "But Lady Medea, they're our enemy! They intend to rob us of the Golden Fleece! They are invaders—Minoan scum! Enemies of your father!"

"I know," she said quietly, and her eyes, no longer looking at the Captain, perceptibly darkened. "Nonetheless, we are in a sort of truce at present. Your behaviour is a crime Zeus would not lightly dismiss, for they are, at present, our guests, and guests are sacred."

The warrior looked about helplessly for a moment, but finally bowed his head in consent. "Very well," and to the guards he said, "lower your weapons."

Medea nodded curtly. "Leave us now, I wish to speak with this girl."

The soldier's eyes flashed up, flaring with anger. "But my lady she must be—"

"Do as I say!" Medea's voice spoke with a sudden deep tone of command. The volume, unnaturally great, sent a chill down Rose's spine, and even the warriors, fully clad in armour and brandishing long swords, jumped and paled at the thunder that rumbled beneath her words.

Bowing hastily to their sorceress-princess, they dispersed.

Rose stood shakily as the soldiers left, looking at the Princess in surprise. "I wouldn't have expected a bunch of tough-guy warriors like that to be scared away by a princess—no offence."

Medea smiled at her wryly. "I am hardly just a 'princess,' Rose Tyler," she dropped the name from her tongue, clearly emphasizing that she knew it without needing to be told. "Surely you have heard that I am a great witch, a cousin, in fact, of the sorceress Circe?"

In fact, Rose did remember one of the Argonauts mentioning something about that, and frowned. "Listen, thanks for helping me out, but—"

"I do wish one favour of you…please," Medea spoke in a low voice, and removed her veil so that Rose was looking into the beautiful, though deathly pale face of the princess, framed by her sharply contrasting raven-black hair and red painted lips. "When you return to the Argonauts, you must tell Jason…" the Princess paused, looking pained and uncertain.

But Rose thought she knew what the princess was going to say. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Medea's eyes grew wide in surprise. "What? I—"

Rose placed her hands on her hips, smirking just a little. "Come on, admit it—you like him, don't you?"

"Oh. Well, I…" the Princess looked small and lost, all of a sudden the power of the witch was gone, and the uncertainty of youth was in its place. Her wide eyes looked sad, almost frightened, and she would not meet Rose's gaze. "What can I do? He is an enemy of my father. It is a silly thing, anyways, this childish love of mine."

"Don't say that!" Rose exclaimed, unable to keep from grinning in excitement. "I think it's exciting! Like Romeo and Juliet."

"Who?" Medea asked, looking confused.

Rose shook her head and continued: "And you can't keep your love a secret, or else you might lose your only chance for true happiness! Who knows what could happen? Don't worry—I'll tell him for you."

The Princess looked up at her, quiet and surprised. "That isn't what I wanted…"

Now it was Rose's turn to be confused. "It isn't?"

"No…" and Medea smiled sorrowfully. "You are very perceptive, Rose Tyler. I do love Jason, but it can never be. No, I do love him, but I can not betray my family and my country by acting foolishly on this childish emotion. What I wanted you to tell him is simply…to leave."

"To leave?" Rose repeated, astonished.

"Yes. When you get back to the Argo, tell them all to just…leave. Tell Jason to get away while he still can."

"But…"

"_Please_," the Princess looked at her, and now the pain and fear in her eyes was overwhelming. Rose felt the gravity of the situation, and her heart moved with sympathy for the witch who had scattered the Colchian guards, who had become a princess afraid of disobeying her father, who had become a poor frightened girl, right before her very eyes. "Please, you don't know the labours my father is planning on making Jason face!"

"What labours?" Rose asked quietly.

"There is a stranger who arrived at our castle only a few days ago. Guests are protected by Zeus, so of course my father was obliged to let him stay. _But _the King has taken an unnatural liking to this stranger—I mean, he doesn't know who he is, or where he comes from, but all of a sudden my father trusts him like his dearest friend and values his advice over the wise counsellors and high priests! But I can feel it…he is an evil man, and he is…different. _Alien. _He does not belong here!" the Princess shuddered and wrapped her arms around her chest tightly.

"He claims that he will give my father bulls which can breathe fire, with hooves of iron that will crush and destroy Jason! And my father intends to make that one of Jason's labours—to tame these monsters and have them plough the fields."

Rose was listening hard, concentrating on every word the Princess said. And, remembering the strange vision she had endured in the town earlier, she wondered if the King's 'mysterious' guest wasn't their own mysterious enemy. They would have to be on guard. "Medea—"

A muffled cry of "Rose!" cut her off, and the two girls turned to see five tall figures racing down the hallway towards them. It was the Doctor leading them, of course, and she couldn't help but smile affectionately at him.

"What are you doing here, Doctor? Come to rescue me?"

He looked surprised at seeing her unharmed, apparently having a pleasant chat with the enemy, and finally grinned sheepishly. "Well, yes, that _was _what I had in mind, actually."

"Please _do _excuse the intrusion, my lady," Eroica said smoothly to Princess Medea, bowing with the easy grace of an aristocrat. "I _tried _telling them to just go up to the front doors and _knock_, but you know how it is with these _warrior_-types. It's always 'storm this,' 'destroy that.'" The Earl sighed dramatically, although Rose could tell he was nearly giggling, and the Major was glaring at him in pained annoyance.

The Doctor seemed a tad embarrassed. "I was going to come alone, but—"

"But I told him I would not stand by while a _Minoan _maiden was in danger!" Jason declared loudly, and he stepped to the front of the party, dressed fully in his armour, his large shield displayed proudly at his side. He removed his plumed helmet, allowing his long golden hair to fall free.

Rose was on the verge of pointing out that she wasn't exactly a—whatever it was he had just called her—but realized the way Medea, standing slightly behind her as though hiding, was gazing up at him with an expression of longing and admiration, and decided it would be best to step out of the way.

She went to the Doctor's side and squeezed his hand tightly. He was grinning at her, as always, and she stood on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. He looked startled. "Rose—"

"Ssh!" Dorian hushed them, nodding in the direction of Medea and Jason.

The two were left staring at one another; each, it seemed, in a sort of dumb surprise. "Princess Medea…"

"Jason…" she looked nervous, and glanced over Jason's shoulder to Rose. Rose nodded at her encouragingly. She looked back to Jason. "You need to know…my father plans on making you face fire-breathing bulls with hooves of iron that can tear a man to shreds. You must plough the field with them and sow dragon's teeth, from which a thousand armed warriors will grow and attack you!"

The Major snorted and rolled his eyes, Eroica glared at him.

Jason had suddenly gone quite pale, he, apparently, believed every word of it. Finally he spoke, clearly struggling to keep his voice calm. "That fleece is kept unjustly by an unjust king. And if I must go to my death tomorrow, in my attempt to reclaim Iolcus, then I will go to my death."

"No!" Medea gasped, looking terrified, and she trembled as she spoke. "No mortal man can attain the Golden Fleece—it is impossible! Even should you tame the fire-breathing bulls, the fleece itself is guarded deep in the forest of Ares, impossible to manoeuvre through! And then, there is a wall nine ells high, with towers and gates, and over the gates there is a stone wall with golden battlements, and there is a mad witch, and a dragon, and—"

"But I might still win the Golden Fleece," Jason interrupted, drawing close to her and gazing firmly down into her eyes. "If a wise and lovely maiden were to come to my aid." He held her gaze, and the Princess blushed and looked nervously away.

"But—but who can possibly face the bulls' fire-breath and fight ten-thousand armed warriors, and brave the dragon in Ares' forest?" she asked in a small voice.

And Jason took her hand and kissed it. "He who has your help, my lady."

The Major groaned. "This is the worst drivel I've ever heard in my life!"

Eroica looked annoyed. "You have _no _sense of romance!"

"If that's your idea of romance than all I can say is thank God."

The Earl rolled his eyes, Rose giggled despite herself, holding the Doctor's hand tightly. Things were finally starting to look up. Somehow, she knew that Medea the Witch would be able to help Jason. Sure enough Medea, her uncertainty apparently cast aside, bade them follow her to her private chambers in the castle's most Northern tower.

"You are right to think that I am powerful…" she said quietly, moving about the dark chambers, taking strange herbs from jars and clay pots that rested on old stone shelves, and on the floor all around a space that had been dug out for a fire. "I can make you a potion," she said, turning back to Jason so suddenly he nearly ran into her.

"A potion? You mean, like, medicine?" Jason asked, frowning in confusion.

The Major was shaking his head in disgust at the entire situation. "There is no such thing as fire-breathing bulls!" he scowled. "The things this king is threatening you with are impossible!"

"About as impossible as a time-travelling police box, I'd say," Eroica said, nodding and obviously trying very hard not to laugh.

The Major glared at him. Then he turned and glared at the Doctor as though daring him to disagree. The Doctor merely shrugged. Rose stood between them. "I don't know, I think we need to be ready for anything," she said.

The Major snorted. She glared at him. He glared at her.

The Doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Rose is right, we don't know where are our enemy is, or when he might reveal himself to us. If he is here, I would expect him to be somehow caught up in the struggle between Aetes and Jason."

"Why?" Major Eberbach stated derisively, more than asked. "How could it _possibly_ further his goal?"

The Time Lord shrugged. "Beats me, but his sort usually gravitate to where the power is and enjoy a good show."

The Major's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I have not forgotten the possibility that you and he may be the same person, _Herr Doctor_."

"Not this, again!" Dorian sighed, shaking his head in frustration.

"There!" Medea exclaimed, and the group turned to watch her pour a thick and steaming liquid into a vial and pass it slowly to Jason. He regarded the concoction dubiously. "Drink that tomorrow morning, and you shall be made invincible! The bulls' iron hooves will not tear your flesh, nor shall the fire of their breath burn you!"

The Major turned back to the Doctor. "_That_," he said, jerking his thumb in Medea's direction. "Is _especially _impossible."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They spent the night back the Argonaut's main camp, on the shore below the city of Corinth along the coast of the Black Sea. A large fire was built up along the shoreline, with large stones surrounding it in a circle to keep the flames contained, and the sound of the waves rolling and breaking against the rocks a continuous rumble in their ears. The sky was black and deep by the time they returned from Aetes' golden palace, and the stars overhead were more brilliant and numerous, scattered overhead in a way Dorian could not remember ever having witnessed before. He sighed, the cool night air and sea breeze sharp and refreshing, brushing his hair back, over his shoulders. It seemed like a night for magic, for faerie tales to come true, when he could imagine and believe in Medea concocting her witch's brew, and a dragon curled in a deep sleep around the tree which bore the legendary fleece.

Rose and the Doctor had walked hand-in-hand all the way back to the camp, and now relaxed by the fire. The Doctor was stretched out on the rocky terrain, Rose curled against him with her head on his shoulder, her long hair falling over his dark jacket.

The Argonauts worked on around them, sharpening weapons, repairing armour, or simply sitting and talking about their adventures, and if they would ever get home to Iolcus. Dorian's smile was bittersweet. "I, too, am far away from my homeland," he said quietly to Orpheus, taking the wine that was offered him and sitting beside the musician.

Orpheus was silent a moment, his long dark hair falling over his face and onto the old worn cloak fastened about his shoulders. "Where are you from?"

"Far, far away…" Dorian sighed, craning his neck back to look up at the millions of stars scattered there like diamonds. He was tempted to stretch his arms up and steal them all.

The minstrel nodded soberly, drawing a lyre out from beneath his cloak. He arranged the instrument on his lap, but did not play it, merely ghosted his fingers above the taught strings, as though it helped him to think. "You are very sad, and that is not the only reason."

"No…" the Earl said softly, closing his eyes. "I had to fall in love with the most confusing man in the universe. He's hated me for years, and then all of a sudden he _kisses _me, but then he acts as though nothing's happened and goes back to yelling at me again!"

"I see…" Orpheus murmured softly.

The first few notes were so faint he wasn't certain he was hearing them or imagining them, above the cackle of the great fire they had set up, and the crashes of the sea and wind. But the notes grew louder as he concentrated on them, crisp sharp notes, sweet notes, cutting through the other noises until the small lyre was able to drown out the rest of the universe, the melody rising and falling, twisting and turning, lulling slowly and gently and deeply.

The wind died down, and the fire dulled its intensity, and the sea became quiet. The stars shone brighter, seeming to pulse in and out of the dark sky in accordance to the notes of the lyre. And as Dorian stared up at them, he felt himself, his spirit, being drawn up into their radiance, their brilliance, flying among them, feeling their presence.

When Orpheus stilled the lyre, Dorian turned his head away, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Thank you…" Dorian whispered hoarsely, despite himself, smiling shakily at the musician.

Orpheus smiled kindly, he placed the instrument with care at his feet, and turned to face Dorian. In the moonlight, Eroica could see the Argonaut's skin was tanned dark from his adventures at sea, his face was handsome, his eyes dark and kind. "You are the one who calls himself 'Eroica,' yes? But in the darkness now, you shine like Apollo."

To avoid commenting on that, Dorian drained his wine goblet in one rather undignified gulp. He usually enjoyed ego-stroking compliments and flirtation, but not tonight.

"You know, a beautiful man such as yourself need not spend his life pinning away for one stubborn oaf."

He had to smile at that. Not many people had the courage to call the Major an oaf, even well out of earshot. _Just great, _he thought, _the one who wants me isn't the one I want._

Orpheus was leaning closer to him now. He smelled of the ocean, and the fire, and the wind and the night. He was beautiful, and an appreciator of the beautiful in the universe, as his haunting music had proven, and in another life-time, Dorian might have leaned towards him, and accepted that kiss, and all of the wonderful things that would come after it…but not now. Not after everything he and Klaus had gone through. Were still going through.

He only just begun to raise his hands to pull away, when—

"SHEIβE! You—You Gott verdammtt! You PERVERT!" Somehow, the Major sounded even _angrier _than when Eroica flirted with him. The roaring yell was causing the rest of the Argonauts to turn and look at them, and Dorian, in an uncharacteristic act of self-consciousness, felt himself blushing. "SCHWUCHTL! DEPP! WICHSER!"

Orpheus seemed unsure whether to defend him or run away, and thus remained seated very, very still beside him. Dorian winced under the volume of the Major's voice, very close to putting his hands over his ears.

"No, Major, you have it all wrong—"

"IDIOT! SCHWEINEBACKE! PERVERT!"

"No! For once I actually _wasn't—_" But it was useless, nothing he was saying could possibly be heard over the German's bellowing. Well, fine. Two could play at that game.

The Earl pushed himself to his feet, and strode up to the Major so that they were standing toe-to-toe, then he took a deep breath, and yelled as loudly as he possibly could: "_BE QUIET!"_

Klaus stared at him like he'd lost his mind, but was startled into silence, a rare occurrence if ever there was one, thought the Earl with a wry little smile. He expected the Major to growl at him, or hit him, or at least make some annoyed comment along the lines of 'since when do you shout?' But nothing came. The German's mouth twitched, as though he wanted to say something more, but didn't. Instead, he turned on his heel, the trench-coat flaring up in the wind behind him.

"Verräter!"

Dorian reached out and grabbed his hand. Klaus tried to jerk out of his grasp, but Dorian tightened his grip, digging the heels of his feet into the dirt and holding the Major there with all his strength. "Since when do you call me a 'traitor' for flirting with another man?"

The Major fell still, and silent. For a long moment, they stood frozen that way, neither man moved or spoke. Klaus did not even seem to be breathing. The cold night wind moved over them, and the waves crashed and broke against the shoreline. Dorian released his hold on the Major's arm and moved to stand in front of him, but the German would not look at him, would not meet his gaze or acknowledge that he was there. His eyes had a strange distant look. Dorian felt a pain deep in his heart.

"Major—Klaus—whatever you think—"

"Shut up!" the Major snapped bitterly. "I always knew everything you said was a lie!"

He could only stare, wide-eyed with confusion and disbelief as the Major pulled away from him and began to walk away, into the shadows, the darkness. For a moment, he felt as though the whole world had collapsed. Nothing made sense anymore. "I don't understand," he said softly, staring at the roaring fire, and the black night and the stars. "Klaus…?"

It was on the grassy cliff, overlooking the camp, and the ocean, and the stars, that Dorian found him. He was standing, as tall and stern-looking as ever, gazing out over the churning sea as though it was an enemy he was preparing to attack, the wind knocking his long raven-black hair into his eyes.

Dorian approached cautiously, unsure of how the man should be approached. "Major…I don't understand what's wrong."

"Of course you don't, you're an idiot," the Major said simply. The anger was gone from his voice, as much as the anger was ever gone from Iron Klaus' voice, but he still did not turn or look at the thief.

For a long while, they stood in silence.

"I…" he sighed, trying to think of what to say. For once, there nothing. The stars were reflected in the ocean, tiny pin-pricks of light scattered among the turning waves. The wind was cold. "…You hate me, don't you?"

"Ja, of course. You know that," the Major answered roughly.

Dorian felt his heart sink. He shouldn't have hoped for anything else, but still…those words stung.

"But…." the Major continued, and Dorian could see he was lighting up a cigarette. "But, I hate everyone. In the entire world, everyone hates everyone else. The other so-called emotions are just masks, or fantasy, or…"

For the first time he did look at Dorian, carefully, contemplatively. It was a look the Major had never regarded him with before. And Dorian felt his eyebrows creasing together. He almost wanted to cry, although he wasn't sure what for. The Major was acting…unlike the Major. It was the end of the world, then, wasn't it?

Klaus took a deep drag off his cigarette and turned back to studying the ocean as though it were a battlefield he was commanding. "But…but you can't hate _everyone_, Major," Dorian said quietly.

The Major smoked for a moment, before responding in a level, emotionless voice. "I hate…I hate my mother, for dying when I was a baby. I hate my father, for trying to raise me into someone he could be proud of. He'll be dead too, soon. I hate my idiot Chief, and my idiot subordinates, and my superiors who are even stupider than my subordinates. I hate our enemies, and I hate our damn incompetent allies. I don't think there _is _a God, but if there is, I hate him the most of all."

Klaus' voice sounded so _cold _when he said this, so empty. Dorian shivered, he bowed his head a little, allowing the curls to fall in front of his face. He didn't want to see the Major when he was like this. It was too personal. It frightened him in a way he could not express.

"I don't know…I don't _hate _you, Major."

"But you don't love me, either. Do you?"

The way it was spoken, such _odd _bitterness, Eroica shivered.

"Because if you did…"

"If I did…?"

"I wouldn't know what to do anymore."

A heavy sigh, and the Major flicked his cigarette away into the wind.

Dorian could only stare.

"I wanted to finish this…mission. Without you knowing. It would have been easier for all involved. I could have gone back to my life…without…having to think about it, much," he spoke slowly, as though every word was a struggle.

Taking a shaky breath, Dorian moved to stand beside him on the cliff, close enough to reach out and take his hand. The wind was biting and sharp. "What are you trying to say, Major? I don't understand. I don't—"

"I don't hate you," the words were spoken gravely, with a dead sobriety to them and a weight that increased their meaning, their depth, and breadth. "Dorian."

He shivered.

The Major turned on him so quickly he had no time to prepare. A hand like iron grabbed his forearms in a bruising grasp, pulling the thief around so roughly that he was knocked off balance, and stumbled over his own feet as he was pushed into Klaus' chest.

For a second he couldn't see anything, and felt only the overwhelming warmth of the Major's body pressed against his own. Then there was an arm winding tightly around his back, trapping him firmly in place, and another hand slid up to his chin, guiding Dorian into…

The kiss was deep and harsh, it seemed raw, if a kiss could be such, brutal and pilfering, but for the heat—oh the heat, the warmth was divine, coursing through every inch of his body, burning down to his feet and sending electricity through every strand of hair. He felt himself moaning from deep in his chest, and the arms holding him tightened, the hand that had been at his neck, now slipped through his thick hair, tangling in the curls.

The feeling was more intense—more complete—more overwhelming, than anything Dorian had ever experienced before. The night-time was shattered, and they were engulfed in a blazing, burning fire. Their bodies pressed so tightly together, it was painful and the most exhilarating pleasure all at once. When their lips parted, the Major did not let him go, but held him there, which was good since Dorian wasn't certain he could stand, his legs felt like water.

When was the last time anyone had ever had such a profound, intense, overwhelming effect on him? Oh…never. He buried his face in the crook of the Major's neck, and felt the faint brush of lips graze his forehead.

"Darling…" he didn't know why his voice broke when he said it. He didn't know why he was crying. "Love..."

But, somehow, the Major seemed to understand, and did not let him go.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, the group set out for King Aetes' palace, again. This time, all of the Argonauts followed them, their weapons and armour ready lest the Colchian's spring a trap on their party. Dorian knew that wasn't likely to happen, and strode along confidently at the head of the party with an enthusiastic Doctor, a laughing Rose, and…the Major. Everything was going to be different between them, now, Dorian thought. They hadn't spoken to each other since last night, although the Major hadn't exploded at him, either.

The Earl's spirits rose as the magnificent golden roofs of the great castle came into view, rising up against the clear blue sky and blazing like fire in the sunlight. It was magnificent. It was more beautiful than he had imagined while reading the stories as a child. And all the better now that he could truly appreciate it, without having to worry about fending off bloodthirsty warriors. He laughed. It felt good. Good to laugh again.

Rose was smiling widely, her arm looped through the Doctor's, and the Major walked by his side, as calm and stern as ever. The sun overhead was warm and bright. Everything was as it was supposed to be. Life was good.

The Colchian soldiers stood all around the palace, and lined the hallways where they entered, but made no move towards hostility today. When they reached the grand throne room, the Sun King sat in his throne, regal and grand, his jewelled crown and sceptre blazing gold. Medea stood at his side, her dark veils covering her face, but her eyes met theirs and she had a look of cool determination about her.

At the King's other side stood the cloaked figure they had seen the day before. He stood perfectly still, watching them, though they could not see his face. Dorian saw that Rose, the Doctor, and the Major were all regarding the figure warily.

Jason stepped forwards, squaring his shoulders, he regarded the king evenly. "I have come for the Golden Fleece, that by rights belongs to my people, as you know," his voice filled the hall, eliciting angry murmurs and gasps from the soldiers, servants, and court assembled.

King Aetes, however, smiled horribly, his lips curling up to reveal cracked and yellowing teeth. "I would be happy to give you the Golden Fleece, young Jason. Provided you complete the simple tasks I request of you. As we agreed." Aetes' tone made it painfully clear that the tasks were going to, in no way, be simple. The king continued: "First you must yoke to a plough two of my bulls, and sow the field with dragon's teeth. From the dragon's teeth will grow an army of undead warriors, whom you must destroy."

Jason swallowed, he looked nervous, but Medea nodded to him. Slowly, he removed the glass vial containing her elixir from his cloak and drank it. The brew bubbled thick and frothy as it poured from the vial, and as soon as he had finished it, Jason's fingers trembled, and the glass tumbled to the stone floor and shattered. Dorian watched the warrior balk and stumble backwards, his legs seized in sudden violent trembles and his chest heaving.

"She's poisoned him," the Major said in a low voice. "To help her father."

"No!" Rose exclaimed. "She wouldn't do that!"

Sure enough, as they watched, Jason straightened, albeit shakily, breathing deeply, his hands clenched into tight, pale fists at his sides. His skin had taken on a deathly hue, the white-grey of a corpse. Dorian felt a sense of revulsion seeing it, and unconsciously stepped backwards, stumbling against the Major. To his surprise, Klaus didn't snap at him or shove him away.

"I am ready to face the bulls, now," Jason told the king in a loud voice, his eyes steely grey.

The man in the black cloak bent low and whispered something into King Aetes' ear. The King smiled coldly at Jason and the Argonauts and nodded, gesturing to the armed guards. "My men will escort you to the field."

They assembled in the large grassy fields behind the palace. The Argonauts watched nervously, assembled among the King's royal guards, and Eroica and the others stood with them, shielding their eyes from the harsh sun and watching everything carefully. The cloaked figure had vanished, and reappeared at the far end of the field, leading two giant animals in heavy chains.

As they drew closer, Dorian realized the giants were the bulls that Jason would have to face. They were incredible, hideously mammoth creatures that dwarfed the humans, larger than the bulls he had seen at the Running of the Bulls, and unnaturally angry beasts. Their eyes were glowing and bloodshot, their hooves glistened like steel and tore the ground to shreds beneath their enormous bodies. And—was that _smoke _seeping from the great quivering nostrils?

Dorian gasped.

"Ja, they are big," the Major nodded. "But not fire-breathing, I see."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the cloaked man unchained the animals, and they lunged for Jason, their hooves ripping the dirt from the field in a thick cloud, a wretched scream sounding from their throats that made Dorian cringe and cover his ears. "They don't sound like bulls!" he shouted over the roaring, grating noise.

Jason, meanwhile, stood terrified, frozen, in the middle of the field, the monsters crashing towards him. "He'll be killed!" Dorian shouted, leaping out into the field and running to where the boy stood, frozen in shock.

"IDIOT!" the Major cursed, as Eroica reached Jason and tried to push him out of harms way, only to find that the Argonaut's skin had become as hard as a stone statue's. And now the bulls were racing towards both of them.

The thief let out a yelp of surprise as he was tackled and knocked to the ground as the bulls loomed over them, kicking their hooves in the air and snarling, which was, altogether, not a thing bulls were known to do. The hooves past over them, and Dorian felt thick muscular arms holding him down, out of harm's way. "You idiot, always trying to get yourself killed!" the Major hissed in his ear. Eroica shivered at his closeness.

"Major! Eroica!" the Doctor called from the safety of the royal guard.

The bulls roared and screamed over them, hooves flashing. The beasts struck Jason, who stood over them, and Dorian screamed, but the hooves did no damage, leaving the youth's skin unmarred, not even knocking him off balance. The realization of his powers finally seemed to be dawning on him, and Jason looked up at the beasts slowly, a smile forming on his lips. He clenched one hand into a fist and pulled back his arm…

He smashed the side of the first monster's skull with his fist and the creature wheeled backwards, roaring angrily, it's bloodshot eyes narrowed on Jason. It stamped the ground with it's hooves and seemed to snort, thin licks of flame creeping from the corners of its mouth.

"What—"

"Impossible!" Klaus shouted. "Gott verdammt!"

The fire sprayed out of the creature's mouth in a thick funnel of red and orange, flames spewing out like a flamethrower, covering Jason from head to foot. Dorian turned his head away as the second bull rounded on them.

"You have to DO something!" he heard Rose shouting at someone, and caught a glimpse of the blonde girl tugging at Medea's arm as he and Klaus rolled out of the path of the crashing iron hooves.

"They should not have gone in there. I made no potion for them!" the witch snapped.

As the tunnel of flames dissipated around Jason, they could see that he stood, still unharmed, and the Argonaut lunged for the bull's throat. But the second animal was still intent on attacking Dorian and the Major. The beast reared above them, screaming, and the flames began to spray from it's face.

Klaus lifted his arm to shield Dorian's face, but the flames stopped before they reached them, halted by thin air and breaking apart as though an invisible bowl shielded the two men.

"You did it!" Rose exclaimed excitedly, but Medea had gone deathly pale, and her entire body trembled and shuddered.

"I can not keep…shielding them…for long…" the witch gasped.

But Jason was already twisting the neck of the bull he had tackled and grinned as he heard a sickening snap. However, he found that the flesh did not give way to muscle and bone, but rather to sparking silver snakes and glassy metals the likes of which he had never seen.

Dorian shouted to the Doctor: "They're ROBOTS!"

The Doctor had run up to the very edge of the field, his eyes wide with shock. "Robots!" he repeated. "Robots!"

"Doctor, what are you going to do?" Rose cried.

"Well," he replied, turning back to her with a grin. "As usual I just so happen to have a brilliant idea!"

Jason stepped back from the bulls in shock, he had never encountered anything like them on his travels with the Argonauts, and didn't know how to fight them. He looked to Medea for help, but the witch had overexerted herself shielding Klaus and Dorian, and had slumped to the ground where Rose was holding her.

The Doctor took one look at the situation, and jumped at the robot bulls himself. He had the Sonic Screwdriver out of his jacket-pocket and leapt on the bulls back, clinging desperately to the thick neck. Eroica, meanwhile, pulled out the Screwdriver the Doctor had given him. The Major looked at him with some concern. "Do you know what to do with that?"

"Um…no, not really!" the thief squeaked as another tunnel of fire shot towards them and they rolled out of the way.

The Major snatched it from him and began running his fingers over the small controls. "How do _you _know what you're doing with it?" the Earl demanded.

"I'm the 'machine maniac,' remember?" he replied without cracking a smile.

Eroica let his head fall back against the dirt. Either this would work, or they'd be torn to shreds and burnt to a crisp. The Major rolled to his side and then managed to push himself off the ground, towards the bull's wildly bucking shoulders.

Dorian couldn't watch. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the sound of the hooves pounding against the earth, the snorts and screeches of animals that were not animals, and the muffled cries of the Major and the Doctor as they tackled them.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Ow," the Doctor remarked as he landed on the ground with a slight thud. He began dusting off his jacket as Dorian cautiously peeked open his eyes. The Time Lord grinned. "I must say, a _mechanical bull _isn't exactly the most original thing—"

The Major, meanwhile, leapt down from the bull he had been wrestling with. Both creatures now stood trance-like and docile before them. Dorian struggled to his feet, his once-lovely outfit now completely ruined. The Doctor could see how disappointed he was.

Jason merely stood stalk-still staring at everything with the expression of a lost little boy. "Well, Jason, you better yoke these beauties to the plough, and sow those dragon teeth." The Doctor pointed out, trying to helpful.

Jason shook himself as though to rid himself of a trance and nodded, approaching the bulls cautiously. Slowly, he took the heavy beam and attached the blade to the animals. He began to work the field as the Doctor and his companions recuperated.

"Where did the man in the cloak go?" the Major asked, narrowing his gaze at King Aetes and his guards.

The Doctor followed his gaze. "There he is!"

The man was fleeing the scene, trying to get through the thick tangle of Aetes' soldiers and guards, stumbling and tripping over his own disguise.

The Major pulled his gun automatically. "Major, no! You can't use a gun in this time period!" Dorian cried.

The Major snorted and pulled the trigger anyways. There was an explosion of red were the bullet struck the man's leg, and, with a cry of pain, the figure collapsed. The Major strode over to him and ripped the cloak away. He and the Doctor both stared in surprise.

"Ristead!"

"That's Ristead?" Dorian asked. "The man we went to steal from before? The one responsible for building the Spartens and supplying them to the other Doctor?"

"Speaking of Spartens…guys…" Rose grabbed his arm and turned him back in the direction of the field. The "dragon's teeth" Jason had been ordered to plant were indeed growing into warriors, tall muscle-covered Spartens! They had no weapons, but they didn't need any, their corded _hands_ were large enough to crush a human's skull in two.

"Not _again_!" Dorian exclaimed.

"This was part of his plan—to use you to lure us here and finish us off!" the Major roared at the terrified Ristead, grabbing the alien by his shirt collar and hauling him to his feet, wound and all. "While he went about using that Solar Crystal to finish his machine that will compress time!" With a vicious shake, he dropped the alien again and began to pace. "Verdammt! Nothing's going right! I told you all we did not have time for this escapade!"

"I think we have more pressing things to worry about at the moment, actually!" the Doctor exclaimed as the Sparten-warriors closed in on them.

"Damn it!" Klaus roared, drawing his Magnum again before the Doctor or Dorian could stop him and firing at their enemies. The Spartens weren't only after Jason, it seemed, they began to attack King Aetes' guards as well.

The King howled in outrage. "Ristead, you've betrayed me!"

The Doctor could do nothing but watch as one of the gargantuan hulks grabbed one of the Colchian guards, crushing the man's skull with its bare hands. He turned away, and quickly grabbed the sword from one of the nearby guards and brought it up to shield himself from the Sparten's blows. "What are we going to do?" the thief cried, stumbling backwards under the force of the attack.

"Damned if I know!" the Major shouted in response, firing at the Spartens. It no longer mattered much, since most of the Colchians and the Argonauts were in the process of deserting the King's palace, and the screams and chaos swallowed up even the echoing shots of the Magnum.

"Where's Rose?" the Doctor asked suddenly, trying to peer through the mass of the crowd. "Rose!"

"Doctor!" Dorian grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the path of one of the Spartens.

They tripped and fell to the ground, and caught sight of where Rose was huddled with Medea amid the turmoil. Atalanta and Orpheus were both fighting, trying to defend them, but the Spartens were overwhelming and much too powerful for the Argonaut's primitive weapons. After a few blows, the swords broke against the Spartens' chests, and daggers and lances could not cut their flesh. As they watched, one of Ristead's creations struck Atalanta and she was sent tumbling to the ground like a limp doll. Orpheus stared at the monsters helplessly, seeming to realize that it would be equally useless to try and fight back, or to run.

"No!" Dorian shouted. Beside him, a discarded bow had fallen, and arrows were scattered in the mud around the dead soldiers. He grabbed one and strung it on the bow, letting it fly into the back of the Sparten's neck.

"That isn't going to hurt it!" the Major snapped at the thief.

But it _did _distract the creature. The monster turned to see what enemy was attacking it, and began lumbering towards Dorian and Klaus. Orpheus was trying to help Rose stand. "Come on, we have to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving Medea!" Rose shouted.

The musician appeared to consider arguing, but changed his mind when more of the Sparten warriors advanced on them, dragging Atalanta to her feet, they ran. Rose screamed and threw herself over Medea's unconscious form.

"Rose!" the Doctor shouted.

The Major shot the warrior that advanced on them, but it continued to lumber forwards, a smoking pit in it's skull. Dorian took the Sonic Screwdriver back from him, trying to remember what the Doctor had done on the space shuttle when they had stolen the Solar Crystal.

The Doctor was trying to force his way through the throng of panicked courtiers, dying soldiers and Spartens, the monster looming above Rose still far away, when a hand grabbed his leg and he stumbled. One of the Colchian guards was grabbing at him desperately, blood running down his arm and pooling around him, his chest slashed open beyond repair. The Doctor looked down at the man in horror, but jerked his head back when he heard Rose's scream, in time to see her fall.

"ROSE!" he screamed, breaking away from the dying men and running towards her. The Sparten had already moved on to other victims, it's task accomplished, when he reached her crumpled form.

She lay in a heap overtop of Medea, and he pulled her up into his arms, sinking to his knees as cold disbelief coursed through his chest. "Rose…it can't be…this can't be happening…"

He brushed the long strands of silky golden hair from her face, he felt the smooth, cool skin beneath his own coarse fingertips and shuddered. She wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. He hadn't been able to see what the Sparten had done to her, he didn't know _what _those creatures were capable of doing. She didn't appear to be wounded, but she was…she was…

He ran a hand across her face, the flesh was already turning cold, the colour draining into grey. Her head lolled back, falling over the curve of his arm, her eyes shut gently, the long golden hair spilling onto the dirt.

Rose was dead.

**To be continued in Episode 10: All That Glitters Part II**


	10. Episode 10: All That Glitters Part II

**Episode 10: All That Glitters Part II**

"What do we do now?" Dorian asked, crouched behind an overturned pillar with Klaus, the Spartens drawing dangerously closer. All he had in the way of weapons were the arrows, the sword having been discarded earlier, and considering how little damage the Major's .44 Magnum did, the thin bits of wood were fairly worthless.

The Major was eyeing the bow in his hands and evidently thinking the same thing. "Who the hell studies _archery _in this day and age, anyways?"

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "_What _day and age?"

The Major scowled. "You know what I meant!"

The Earl sighed, brushing some of his hair back daintily. "Well, you know I love immersing myself in Renaissance history, darling. And you didn't answer my question. What _are_ we going to do?"

"Guns don't work, arrows sure as hell won't work…" the Major grimaced. "If we had grenades, or dynamite maybe….How did Jason defeat all of his enemies in the story? And please don't tell me he used magic pixie dust or something."

The Earl was silent for a moment, thinking. "He threw a stone into the thick of them, and each thought that it was someone else who had attacked him, so they ended up killing each other."

The Major snorted. "What a cowardly way to get out of a fight."

"Really? I always fancied it was quite clever."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence as their enemies drew nearer.

"Wait a minute! We still have Ristead!" Dorian exclaimed suddenly, pointing to where the alien crime lord lay cowering against the pillar, the bullet wound in his leg preventing him from escaping.

"So?" the Major asked irritably.

"So_, he's _the one who made them, can't _he _control them?"

The Major slowly ground his cigarette into the dirt and turned towards their prisoner. "That's an idea…" he looked at Dorian significantly. "_For once_."

Dorian rolled his eyes, then settled in to watch as the Major crawled to where Ristead was lying and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, hauling their tormentor to his feet, and dangling him directly in the Spartens' line of fire. "Turn those things off, _now_," the Major growled.

The poor crime lord withered under the harsh military gaze and reached for a controller hidden inside of his cloak. With the flick of a switch, the monsters that had terrorized them across time and space shut down.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dorian relaxed against the toppled pillar and ran a hand through his tangled hair as the Spartens slumped lifelessly to the ground.

Snarling, the Major snatched the control-device from Ristead, crushed it in his fist, and thrust the alien aside. He turned back to Dorian and stood staring at him for a long moment and then, in the strangest of silences, he extended a hand and helped the thief to his feet.

The Earl fixed his hair and looked around at the destruction that had swept the field. Dead Colchians and Argonauts alike were scattered across the ground, thick red blood turning brown as it dried in clumps in the dirt. The now-lifeless Spartens had fallen perfectly flat and stiff as toppled statues to the ground around them. The stench was revolting, and sent a wave of nausea through him. He blanched.

The Major lit up a smoke, seemingly indifferent to the carnage, but he was surveying the area with an intent gaze. "Where is the Doctor?"

Eroica, turning away from the field with a shudder, shook his head. "I don't know. I—"

He sensed the Major turn and followed his gaze, but found all the words stopped abruptly in his throat at the scene before them. There was a wide circle in the centre of the field, where none of the dead bodies seemed to have fallen. The Doctor knelt there, cradling Rose in his arms. She lay limp and still, her skin turning a greyish-white, her head lolling back over the curve of his arm, golden hair spilling into the dirt and mud.

Jason stood over them, a recovered Medea by his side, clasping her hands to her chest and looking down at Rose with a sort of numb disbelief. "I just…I didn't…"

"Doctor…" Dorian stared in disbelief, trying to get his legs to work, to walk over to them, was a struggle. "Rose….what happened?"

"I don't know…" the Doctor's voice was quiet and hoarse. "The Sparten stood over her, and then she fell. There was nothing—nothing I could see…"

"There is no wound," the Major observed curtly, glancing over the girl.

"But she's…I mean surely she isn't…" Dorian couldn't get the words to come.

"I'm taking her back to the TARDIS," the Doctor said slowly, standing and lifting her in his arms. "I don't…" His eyes met Dorian's for a moment. They were dark and shadowed, horrified and tired, deeply pained. "I knew this would happen. She's dead. I've killed her. She's only nineteen and I've…"

"Doctor, don't!" Dorian cried. "We'll take her back to the TARDIS. Surely you can do something! Surely!"

"Dorian…" strange, to hear Klaus call him by that name. He fell silent.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Medea was murmuring again and again under her breath, a quiet mantra. "She was protecting me. I…no one has ever done anything like that for my sake before."

"She wouldn't have done otherwise," the Doctor said quietly. "It would never even have crossed her mind to leave you…she's too…good." His voice cracked. He began to walk away, Dorian walked after him, and the Time Lord stopped abruptly, and spoke without looking at him. "No. Stay here. Help Jason and the others retrieve their treasure. We said we would help, after all."

It was the tone that spoke more than the words: _I want to be left alone right now. _

Dorian relented.

He fell back to where Klaus stood with Jason and Medea as the Doctor slowly walked away from them, disappearing among the marble pillars and high walls of Aetes' palace. The silence hung heavily over them.

Medea stood staring at the spot on the ground where Rose had fallen. She looked ill. Jason, however, was adjusting the leather straps which bound his shield to his forearm. His skin was regaining its natural complexion, and the shock of having faced the monstrous 'bulls' seemed to have worn off.

"Well, we do have to go and get the Golden Fleece…"

Dorian couldn't look at him. Even the Major seemed disgusted. Medea merely stared at nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice was trembling. "Jason is right…I know my father, and he won't give up the Fleece, even after everything that's happened. If we don't go and take it before his men have a chance to recover, then we may loose our chance forever."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Alright," the Major said, after several uncomfortable minutes had passed. He ground out the remains of another cigarette in the dirt under his heel.

"The rest of my men have returned to the Argo, but they'll no doubt be ready and waiting to escape—"

"No doubt," the Major muttered.

"It looks like it will be up to the four of us to recover the Fleece," Jason concluded, glaring.

"Steal, you mean. You want to _steal _the fleece, my dear boy, and no one's better at that than I am," Eroica murmured.

But when Klaus looked over at him, the thief displayed none of his usual smiles or frivolous flirtatious gestures. Rather, the blonde was still pale and shaken, and his wide blue eyes had not left the spot where Rose Tyler had fallen.

Medea's dark eyes, as well, lingered on that place in the dirt. "I need to…" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. There might have been tears in her eyes that she blinked fiercely away. "I need to go back to my study—get another potion for—an elixir for—"

"We don't have time for that!" Jason interrupted. He looked irritated. "What if you get caught? Aetes isn't a fool, he probably suspects something—and we need your help, or else I'll never get the Golden Fleece!"

"Medea knows more about what's needed to get the Fleece than you do," Eroica snapped suddenly, finally tearing his eyes away from that now-hallowed ground. "If she says she needs another potion, I'll sneak in with her to get it. We won't be caught."

There was that determined look in the thief's eyes, the look that turned them into a steely blue like glazed ice, when even at his most disagreeable, Klaus would have been forced to regard the other man with some grudging respect. He nodded.

"You go with the girl, we will inform Jason's men of the new plans."

"We'll meet you," Medea said. "We will need to take the Argonaut's ship to the island where the Fleece is hidden."

The Major nodded. "Alright. We'll meet again in an hour."

Eroica smiled, but the smile was thin and empty. "Sounds like a plan, Major."

But he could not afford to think about the fact that one of their four had already fallen.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Doctor took another breath. Felt the air biting against his throat. He couldn't raise his head, he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't look at her.

He had lain her body on one of the small sleeping couches in the TARDIS medical centre, but it had been clear since the moment he had finally reached her side on that accursed battle field. There was nothing he could do for her. His worst fear, his worst nightmare since he had met her in that Auton-infested department store in 2005 London, was coming true.

He had killed her.

Nineteen years old, and he had killed her.

She had trusted him.

And he had killed her.

_Maybe our enemy is…._

"Doctor!" a familiar voice called. He felt his hearts catch in his chest. Now his mind was playing tricks on him. "Here we are with all of time and space as we know it at stake, and you're sitting around moping!"

The clear sound of small, precise footsteps across the ground, the sound of material trailing over the metal floor—he looked up in time to see a heavy red cloak being tossed to the side, the familiar form revealed as the shadows parted and the heavy fabric fell away…

"Rose!"

He jumped to his feet, but froze before he could embrace her. The woman he was looking at…she was Rose, but she wasn't _his _Rose. The woman who stood before him, her back straight and arched, her head tossed back with an almost imperial bearing, so that her long strands of iridescent hair—more orange and fiery than the Rose Tyler he had known—flipped over her squared shoulders. She was older, her mid-thirties, he would guess, and there was a hardness about her face, a perceptible coldness that his Rose had never shown. There were small white scars branching off in splintering lines in a band around her eyes. Eyes that were cold one moment, then softened as she looked at him.

Her smile was quivering, and for a moment, he thought she was going to cry. "Doctor, it really is you! The Doctor I used to know…the Doctor I fell in love with."

He could only stare at her in confusion. "Rose…"

Turning back to the narrow medical bed, he was once again faced with her still, lifeless form. He felt a warm hand close around his, pulling him slowly away. "Doctor…" Her hand brushing against his forehead, not quite so soft as it had once been, there was a jagged scar cut cruelly into the back of her hand. He caught it, trying to hold her gaze.

Her eyes were not the deep brown orbs he knew, they were bright, almost neon, sky blue, they seemed to blaze from her face. He couldn't tear his gaze away from them.

"Rose Tyler…what happened to you?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dorian and Medea were walking swiftly through the marble halls of her father's palace. He took the opportunity to observe all of the beauty that history would erase, the bright blazing gold and deep red ochre of the pictures painted on the walls, the statues that looked so delicate they would be shattered into a million pieces long before the twentieth century. He tried to keep his mind away from Rose and the Doctor, and listen at the same time for approaching soldiers and royal guards.

"Damn it."

Medea cast him a sidelong glance, her mouth curved into a deep frown. "Eroica—"

"Don't."

"I'm sorry," the witch looked straight ahead.

"Rose and the Doctor…they were the first real friends I've had in a long time."

He tightened his grip on the slender wooden bow in his hands. "I just want to know…what happened to her."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I _am _Rose, Doctor. I'm just not…_your _Rose, exactly," she explained, perched on one of the hospital beds. She almost laughed, but it came out choked, not the bubbling laughter he knew. "I already took dangerous risks coming here, communicating with her—with my—" she gestured to the Rose Tyler who lay lifeless on the cot. "But my warning wasn't enough, I guess. Never enough."

"You can't be…it doesn't make any sense…" he shut his eyes, leaning against the wall. Trying to think. "You _can't _be…"

"I'm not from the future," she said, and he detected a bitterness alien to his Rose in her tone. "Not from _your _future. I'm not supposed to be, at any rate. Something went wrong. Something went horribly wrong, and it—interfered—it shouldn't have got through—it disturbed the time line--it's wrong!"

"Stop it!" he shook his head, fixing her with a stern gaze. "Calm down, Rose. Start from the beginning. Tell me. _What _is going on here?" He crossed the room, grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, and forced her to look at him.

And when her eyes opened again, and he was staring into those bright sky blue eyes….

He knew those eyes.

He suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash through him, and broke away abruptly, turning so quickly he almost fell over a nearby bed. He felt sick.

"Doctor!"

But he knew that voice, too. Without looking at her, he asked her to continue, or maybe he didn't, but she went on with her story, her voice trembling. "There was a terrible accident, we were in this kind of shuttle, D—Dorian and I, when the Dalek fleet attacked us. They came out of no where—"

"The Daleks?" he asked in a whisper. "No. That can't be—"

"They—they—"

He heard her shudder. He felt guilty that he was unable to make himself turn around and look at her.

"They're everywhere, in my future. The Daleks. There was some mistake, when Gallifrey was destroyed—"

"How do you know about Gallifrey ?" he asked quietly.

"I've been with you a lot longer than she has," he could hear her voice breaking. "Doctor!" the sound of her pushing off the bed, standing, pacing a few steps. Shivering. "The accident—"

"You're all over the place."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

A cry more than a question.

"Dorian and I—the shuttle, it was shot down by the Dalek fleet and crashed on—God, I don't know, some planet! I don't remember anything more about it except the—the noise, like thunder ripping right through my skull. Everything was shaking and tearing apart, and the fire—the fire—I have nightmares about the fire every—"

She took a deep, shaking breath, composing herself with obvious effort. When she began again, her voice was quiet, tremulous. "The control panel exploded in the crash, and my face…well, in the fire, and the glass and metal…you can imagine. The shuttle was completely destroyed. It's a miracle that I lived at all, what was left of me, that is. Dorian….

"Dorian died. They told me it was very fast, but…well, what would I know? There was minimal damage to his body, somehow. Something impaled him, I guess. I didn't ask for the details."

He swallowed the sickness that was rising in his throat, his hand tightening into a fist. These were his companions, he was supposed to be protecting them, not watching them die!

"This can't be our future…" his voice a coarse whisper.

But Rose was still continuing her story in a shaky whisper, her ruined hands trembling uncontrollably as they moved around her face, hovering around the eyes, not touching, no…

"Those of us who were left in the faction, we discussed it. We thought, we thought he might not mind…might even have wanted, well…" she choked.

"I don't believe any of this."

"You don't have a choice! I went through so much just to find you, so that you could stop this from happening! I know it wasn't the way the future was supposed to go—it's a _wrong _future! You were supposed to destroy the last of the Daleks, the Emperor—you and I, Doctor—but we _didn't_. The destruction of Gallifrey caused more damage in time and space than we ever could have imagined. Somehow, _they _got through, Doctor, and they took over my future, and they—and you….you, my Doctor…."

He heard her cross the room slowly, and didn't tear his hand away when she took it in her limp, wounded and clumsy grasp. Her next words were a whisper in his ear:

"_You went mad._"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"You must think I'm mad," Medea said, hauling a great chest out of one of the narrow alcoves in her spiralling tower chambers. "What I'm doing for Jason, and I barely even know him…"

Dorian leaned against the cold stone wall, absent-mindedly twirling one of his golden curls around his slender fingers. "I guess it's fate," he murmured. _How much of our existence in this universe is fate? Do we have any say—_he kept thinking of Rose and the Doctor, he wanted to be with them again, he wanted them both to be well and safe, the first friends he'd had in years, it wasn't fair—_can we fight the future?_

"Medea!" a great bellowing roar of a voice suddenly rang through the old stone chambers. The Princess jumped, knocking vials and potions and wooden boxes of herbs to the ground, where they smashed.

The thief held his breath, from where he was leaning against one of the many stone alcoves, he was cloaked in shadow and hidden from the intruder. "F—father…" he heard the Princess gasp, and knew it was King Aetes standing in the doorway.

"You! False witch-maid! You've betrayed your own people—your own family!"

There was silence on Medea's part, only a heavy, dark silence. Dorian tightened his grip on the bow, in case…

"Yes, I know what you've done!" the King continued. "There's no way those Minoan bastards could possibly have defeated the bulls and army without magical intervention!"

"But—but Ristead betrayed you as well! If it hadn't been for Jason and the others, those monsters would have killed us all!"

"I want no excuses, girl!" the King spat angrily. Then his voice turned to an icy whisper: "If Jason and the Argonauts take that fleece, then you will die!" Saying this, the warrior-king turned on his heel and left, slamming the old wooden door of the tower behind him so that the glass bottles on the shelves shook and shivered.

The potions she had been gathering fell limply from Medea's hands.

Dorian stepped away from the niche in the wall and turned to Medea. The Princess had fallen to her knees, her face as white as a ghost. "Medea….? Your potions…" he carefully picked up one of the vials she had dropped and pressed it into her hand.

All of a sudden, the Princess cried out. Eroica looked up to see a dozen royal guards charging blindly towards them, spears and lances drawn and flashing in the grim smoky light of the tower. "Kill the witch!"

"It's her fault those mad bulls killed our men!"

"It's her fault those strange foreigners are here!"

"It's her fault the Golden Fleece is being stolen!"

"It's her fault! Her fault!"

"Kill the Witch!"

"NO!" Medea screamed, tangling her pale white hands in her dark hair and doubling over.

"Medea!" Dorian acted on instinct. He grabbed the arrows from the quiver he had taken from the battle field, and strung them on the bow, sending them flying at the brutal men in a rapid wave of dart-like shots.

Before he realized what had happened, the princess was touching his arm, and the soldiers lay scattered on the floor, moaning and clutching the shafts of wood lodged in their sides and limbs.

He stared at the weapon in his hands in numb disbelief before tossing it away. Smiling, he turned to look down at Medea where she clutched his arm. "Well, we got we came for, best be getting back to the others now, hadn't we?"

"But—" she continued to stare at the fallen knights with wide eyes, before turning and looking up at him with a look beyond awe and disbelief. "Oh by Apollo..."

Dorian uneasily pried her off his arm. "Uh…Princess?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They met with Jason and the Major in the city where the Argo was anchored. Jason's team stood waiting impatiently, still pale and shaken from their encounter with the Spartens and the bulls. "I don't think we should be taking another risk," Idas was complaining loudly. "We lost too many good men today. If we lose any more we won't be able to make the trip home!"

"Which is precisely why none of you will be going with us to get the Fleece," Jason replied. "Medea, myself, and these two strangers—"

He stopped when he caught sight of Medea, white-faced, tears running abstractly from her dark eyes. "I'll help you find your way through the forest, but then—" her voice broke in a sob. "But then I will die, for my own father will kill me!"

"Medea!" Jason strode to her, clasping her trembling hands in his. "No, I won't allow it! Help us get through these woods, and I will take you with me to Iolcus!"

"No! But THIS is my _home_! My sisters are here, and my aunts and cousins—all of the friends I grew up with—this is my home! In Iolcus what will I be? A peasant? A slave!"

"Never!" Jason declared, cupping her face in his hands, "Medea, help us escape from this awful country and I will make you my Queen!"

"Oh, Jason!" Medea cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

The Major rolled his eyes and grimaced, then reached into his jacket pocket and scowled darkly. "What is it?" Eroica asked, flipping his golden curls off his shoulder and surveying the forest.

"I'm out of cigarettes."

Dorian turned and looked at him. "Oh dear."

"What is 'cigar—"

"Let's just get on with it!" the Major growled in a very threatening voice.

Medea hastily backed up a few steps. "Um…right." She turned to the Argonauts. "You must bring the ship to the side of the island that is sheltered by a wooded-grove. Just beyond those trees is a wall which we must cross to find the sacred garden of Ares where the Golden Fleece is kept."

"Jason, Eroica, we will go with you," Orpheus said. "Don't listen to that old fool Idas."

"No," Jason shook his head firmly. "If we don't return, you can still make it home to Iolcus."

"But Jason—" Atalanta protested, as the four of them stepped aboard the creaking ship, joining the rest of the Argonauts.

"It's better to keep the party small, for this sort of thing, anyways," Eroica said, as the Argo swayed uneasily in the water, the large prow in the shape of the goddess Hera rising up and above the waves and the thick spray of the sea.

"It's alright," Medea whispered to Jason as the Argo sailed towards the small island. "With these two allies we can not possibly fail!"

He looked at her in genuine surprise. "What makes you say that?"

"Jason, are blind? It could not be more obvious—these travellers are the gods Apollo and Ares in disguise!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They arrived at the island as the sun was sinking, the sky melting into dark purple hues, a faint orange-golden shimmering on the very edge of the horizon. The Argo rested on the edge of the island as Jason, Medea, Eroica, and the Major climbed out.

"Take my lyre, for luck," Orpheus called to them with his rich, bard's voice, pressing the delicate instrument into the Earl's hands.

"Take my sword," said Atalanta, to the Major.

They stepped onto the dark sand as the Argo pulled away. "We'll be back," Atalanta told them firmly. "In the morning."

"And if we aren't here," Jason told her, "Go back to Iolcus without us."

With these grim goodbyes, the Argonauts departed and the small company was left standing in the thick dark grove that ran along the edge of the small island. Medea shivered and drew her shawl more tightly about her bare shoulders, peering through the dark black shadows of the tangled, gnarled trees. Dorian tightened his grip on the small wooden frame of the instrument, all though what good it would do him in this jungle he couldn't fathom. The Major strode along beside him, as confident and unimpressed with their surroundings as ever. He carried Atalanta's heavy sword with ease, and his sharp glare seemed to cut straight through the gloom and darkness. Jason and Medea were coming along slowly behind them, eyes wide, jumping fretfully at ever little crack of twigs or rustle of wind in the leaves.

"These are evil woods," Medea told them in a low voice. "Everything that grows here is poisonous."

After a time they came upon an impossibly huge stone wall. It was twelve feet high, cold and grey and desolate and cut through the woods, running as far as they could see in both directions. A large black gate with brazen doors and thick, heavy bars rested in the centre. "This gate is guarded by Brimo, the Witch." Medea explained.

Jason glanced about fearfully. "But—surely you are a more powerful witch than she is…aren't you?"

Medea grimaced. "Hush! She'll hear you!"

"Indeed she has," a deep voice said bemusedly from the shadows above them.

"The witch!" Jason gasped, drawing his sword as the dark branches rustled and shadowed figure leapt easily to the ground before them.

The witch was tall and had a stern, austere quality about her—a cold sense of power that hung in a tangible aura over her gauntlet-covered arms, her long animal-skin cloak, leather boots and armour. "I am Brimo, guardian of this forest. I should have killed you immediately, but that you were accompanied by the priestess of this grove."

At Brimo's feet, two large hounds appeared, darker than the shadows, their eyes bright yellow, their growls a low rumble of thunder as they snarled and snapped at the strangers.

"Let us through the gate, Brimo," Medea said, but her voice was shaking, and she stepped behind Jason as the hounds moved forwards.

Brimo raised a hand to halt the dogs, but regarded their group suspiciously. "Why? What business have you in that sacred place?"

"Let us through, Witch!" Jason cried, pointing his sword at her menacingly.

In the moonlight, Dorian saw her smile wryly. "I can let you through the gate easily enough, but on the other side is a vicious dragon that will tear any one who steps into the Garden of Ares into pieces and devour him. Even Medea, our priestess, will not be safe, if you four cross that wall."

Jason hesitated, and Medea shrank back. Klaus regarded the brazen doors of the gate tiredly. "Listen, we're in a hurry, we don't have time for all of this dramatic crap. Just open the door."

"Uh…Major?"

"Their 'dragon' is probably a gecko."

"The bulls were real enough, weren't they?"

"Nein. They were machines."

The thief sighed. There was just no reasoning with some people.

Brimo stared at the four of them, each in turn, and finally shrugged indifferently. "You won't be the first adventurers I've let into the garden, but if you want to die, who am I to stop you?"

With a clap of her hands, the hounds vanished, the large black bars of the gate crashed down, the woods trembled and dirt flew in a thick cloud to the air as the heavy wooden doors flew open. Medea and Jason cried out and clutched each other in fright, Dorian shielded his eyes from the storm of dirt, and when he looked again, Brimo had vanished.

"Come on," Klaus said quietly, "Let's go." Then he turned to the cowering forms of Jason and Medea, and snapped: "Stop that snivelling, you cowards! Do you want the damn fleece or not!"

Dorian couldn't help but chuckle. And then he gasped. For no sooner had they stepped through the gateway, then a pale golden light cut through the dark night shadows, its shimmering glow guiding them into the deep darkness.

"The fleece!" Jason cried at once. "It must be the Golden Fleece!"

The warrior leapt forwards, but Medea clutched his arm tightly. "No, Jason! Watch out!"

Then they saw, all around the great tree where the fleece was hung, a thick dark shadow was coiled, and as the four watched, the shadow shivered and stirred, sliding and twisting slowly around the enormous tree, so that the branches quivered and groaned.

The Major's right hand tightened in its grip around the heavy sword, while the left rose to halt Dorian from moving forward. The thief felt the brush of the hand against his chest, the Major wasn't looking at him, but peering intently ahead, and his own heart was already racing with adrenaline, his sharp eyes picking apart the darkness, his body, ready to spring away in a moment—but when he felt Klaus' hand on his arm he could not help smiling to himself. "But Major, I am a thief. This is my game, now," he whispered.

They stepped forwards, under the Major's heavy tread a twig from the forest cracked and snapped, the sound exploding in the perfect quiet. And that was the end of silence.

The shadow shot out from beneath the tree, uncoiling like a cracked whip, rising straight into the air, so that the party caught a terrifying glimpse of the massive, serpent body, the coils spangled with bronze and gold, jagged horns jutting outwards raggedly across the coils. Medea screamed, and Jason's sword tumbled uselessly to the ground before the creature could even land its first strike.

The thief and the Major stood stock still beneath it, the Major's hand still tight on Dorian's arm. The beast's head swung around, the neck hanging above them in defiance of gravity, the head alone the length of a man's body, its small black eyes sharp and bright and intelligent. A forked tongue flicked in and out of the mouth tentatively and it seemed to be thinking about them, the great head swaying back and forth among the four with a sinister grace and ease.

The Earl felt the Major's body tense beside his, and the hand holding his arm released him, the snake swung its head in their direction, and Dorian knew exactly what Klaus was thinking, but—

"Klaus, NO!"

But the Iron Major shoved him to the side just as the monster struck. He spun into the thick tangled bushes surrounding the grove, stumbling and unable to stop, tumbling straight to the ground as the dragon descended on Klaus. He heard the ferocious snap of the beast's head, and the thud of the thick sword cutting through air and slamming into the dirt.

The Major leapt to the side, avoiding the lightening-fast swivel of the neck as few men could have done. He crouched as the beast reared its head again, regarding its prey with a curious tilt of its beastly head.

"Jason, do something!" he heard Medea gasp.

"The Fleece!" the warrior cried, lunging awkwardly for the tree in the centre of the grove.

The snake's head whipped around and shot towards the Argonaut, slamming into him and sending Jason backwards with a loud crunch. Medea screamed again, and ran to where he had fallen, but the snake's head whipped around and slid down through the air towards her.

Dorian sprang to his feet, and in a second he was across the field and flung himself over the Princess. They both tumbled to the grass and dirt, the giant snake crashing down just above them, swivelling around to glare at them with a definitely angered gaze. The forked tongue darted out again, tasting the air and the eyes fixed on them.

The Major leapt for the old sword, dragging it from the earth where it had fallen and fell upon the beast's tail, driving the edge of the blade through the thick scales. The head snapped back to Klaus' direction.

Dorian pushed Medea out of the way, and took the lyre that Orpheus had given him. "Maybe I can lull it to sleep, like those snake charmers!" he shouted, as Klaus dragged the bloodied sword from the thick flesh. The beast itself was merely watching them, the large head turning slowly in one direction then the other, the eyes flashing, as though it couldn't decide which of them to pick off first.

"Can you play that thing?" the Major asked, staring up warily at the beast.

"I played an acoustic guitar once…" Dorian replied, strumming the short wires. "They're kinda similar, right…?" A few more notes were plucked off at random, and the dragon's head turned in his direction.

The descent was like lightening, and he couldn't move a muscle in his body, he felt the impending death—extinguishment in those terrible jaws—but there was no way of moving in time. He shut his eyes.

There was a bone-crunching CRACK and the dragon reared backwards, its entire body drawn out in anguish and it toppled to the dirt, twisting and writhing wildly as the sword cut through the lower half of its body. The great head beat against the ground, slamming apart rocks and boulders, the trees shaking and trembling under its pain and fury.

Dorian's breath was shaky, but at that moment his eyes caught sight of the glimmer of the Golden Fleece among the trees, and he was Eroica once again, springing off, catlike, into the darkness and the shadows.

In a moment, he was standing before the legendary Golden Fleece. It shone in the darkness, brilliant, luminous, he watched it entirely entranced for a long moment. "Oh…you're a pretty trinket, aren't you, darling?"

The dragon was recovering, it flipped onto its side, curling and shuddering as its wounded body flexed, tearing through the darkness. Medea drew one of the potion vials from her shawl and fell to her knees on the ground, flinging the mixture quickly into the air around her. She began chanting the ancient spells, the power of her ancestors taking over, until the shawl came lose and fell to the ground, and her entire being appeared to blaze with light.

She threw her head back, and the light burst in a tunnel of fire from her eyes and she cried out the names of Almighty Zeus, and Hera, Apollo the Slayer of Darkness, the Huntress Artemis, the war-god Ares, Aegis-bearing Athene, and the sky cracked and howled with thunder and wind that rose and crashed down on them, driving the dragon deeper into the ground.

Dorian fell back against the base of the great tree, the wind howling and screaming in his ears until it was deafening, the flashes of lightening blinding. He shivered and lay there. The entire forest seemed to be ripping apart around him. The earth rocked and shook in violent tremors beneath his body. The branches of the great tree groaned and snapped as though at any moment they would crash down against him, and the wind was knocking the air right from his lungs. For the first time in his life, the thief was actually, genuinely, _terrified_.

But then he felt someone collapse beside him, and he knew it was Klaus without seeing, because he felt a warm, strong hand cover his shoulder, and the exhausted Major fell so that he was partly on top of him, one arm curled around him as though to protect him from the raging storm, and with one more deafening crash of thunder and an explosion of lightening ripping the very universe around them apart, Dorian curled slightly against the Major's shoulder, clutching the sacred fleece between them, and passed out.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning was warm and bright, the rich golden sun pouring in over the emerald treetops and kissing the rich sandy shore of the island. Dorian stirred and stretched out uncomfortably in the sand, blinking and looking up in confusion. He tilted his head back and felt sand slid out of his hair. He grimaced.

Medea was sitting on the ground beside him, apparently lost in her thoughts. She looked over at him in mild surprise. "Oh. You're finally awake."

"I—mnh—wha—?" It was really to early for mutli-syllables.

"There isn't anything left of the Garden of Ares," the witch said softly. "Everything was destroyed. It's a miracle we even survived. Well, I was casting the spell, and I suppose it was the magic of the Golden Fleece that protected you and Major—"

"The fleece! Where is the fleece?" he asked immediately, wincing at the glare of the sun.

She sighed. "Please don't. You're starting to sound as bad as Jason. He took the fleece, of course."

He groaned. "Of course. How did he avoid being incinerated, anyways?"

Medea actually appeared slightly embarrassed at this. "Well…he was…not in the grove at the time."

"Ran away, hmm?" the Earl asked, lying back in the sand lazily.

"Stop lazing about! It is disgraceful at this hour!" a familiar voice demanded. Dorian smiled.

"I'm recovering from a _very _near-death experience, as I recall, darling. It's quite legitimate."

The Major snorted, standing over him and shaking his head impatiently. "Also…..the _guitar_, Herr Dieb?" he made a sort of pained face.

"Sure," Dorian laughed. "Didn't I ever tell you about my flower child days?"

"No. Please don't. Ever."

Dorian laughed at the Major's expression.

"There is the Argo!" Jason's voice exclaimed, and as Dorian pulled himself to his feet, he saw the warrior standing on the edge of the shore, an annoyingly triumphant air about him.

The ship was approaching quickly, the prow in the shape of Hera rising towards them, drawing closer with every wave. Dorian looked to the figure of the ancient goddess as though asking what he should do next…he saw the golden fleece secured in a large leather pouch to Jason's belt. Medea hugged him joyfully as the Argonauts arrived and the entire group cheered wildly.

"By the gods, you did it!" Idas cried.

Atalanta smiled at them, Orpheus climbed out of the boat to embrace him.

"I'm so happy," Medea cried, turning to Dorian, he could see tears shining in her eyes. "I'm really going to live with Jason forever, and be his wife. This is a happy ending. And it's all thanks to you and your friends."

He felt a moment of pain. Should he tell her what lay in store for her…? But no, as the Doctor said, they could not change the course of history. So he smiled sadly to her and hugged her tightly in return.

"Here, take this," she said, pressing her one unused bottle of magical elixir into his hands. "I will have no use for such things any more, and, who knows? Perhaps it will be useful to you."

Klaus stood silent and to the side as the joyous celebration and parting took place. Eroica shook Jason's hand warmly, and hugged him like a brother. The poor fool was so intoxicated with his victory and heroic triumph and near-homecoming that he didn't even notice the satchel removed from his belt.

Dorian and Klaus stood on the edge of the small island, watching as the Argo with its legendary crew sailed slowly from their sight, the golden sunlight bathing the wooden frame, the overjoyed warriors, their trials at an end, waving back to them and shouting their thanks. Dorian and Klaus stayed like that for a long time afterwards, staring out at the calm sea, the breeze brushing back their long hair.

"You seem sad," the Major said quietly, after a long time had passed. "But look at them—they will be happy together and have their whole lives ahead of them. There is no reason to be sad."

"I guess you never cared for myths much as a boy, my Major," Dorian said sadly. "Medea really does love Jason. She saves him from even more horrible monsters and men on the journey home. She even kills her own brother for his sake, and secures his place on the throne of Iolcus when they return home. They even have two children, but then…well, Jason changes his mind, I guess. He runs off with some other princess and tries to have their children enslaved and her exiled."

"What?" the Major looked at him in surprise and disgust. "That man should not be remembered as a hero in history!"

Dorian laughed softly. "Well, the ancient Greeks seemed to agree, actually. In the end of the story, Jason is killed by the very goddess who helped him on his quest, because she was so disgusted with his treatment of Medea."

"That is good," the Major nodded in approval, which made Dorian smile a little.

Dorian opened the leather bag he had taken from the horribly unwitting young hero, letting the thick Golden Fleece spread and fall out in a shimmer of golden glow. It blazed in his grasp, luminous and magnificent.

The Major looked at him in surprise.

"Have you ever heard of anyone finding the Golden Fleece, or it being in a museum anywhere? I've decided it is very beautiful, and I will keep it for myself."

The Major appeared to think for a moment, but said nothing.

Dorian looked at the mythical object in his hands and back to Klaus once more. "Do you think the gods would want me to have it?" he asked, more to hear Klaus say something than anything else.

The Major merely shrugged, then offered one of his very rare half-smiles. "Well, from what I've heard so far, these ancient gods were just crazy about you."

Dorian laughed delightedly, when suddenly, the Major's arm slid around his back, pulling him into a sudden, furious embrace. He felt the Major's mouth press against his own, a deep, passionate, hungry kiss. A hand pressed against his face gently, brushing the long golden curls from his face as the wind blew them into a furious torrent. The kiss deepened, and Klaus held him close for a long time, until the wind died down, and they heard the sound of the TARDIS materializing behind them...

**To be continued in Episode 11: The Dalek Invasion of Bonn**


	11. Episode 11: The Dalek Invasion of Bonn

**Episode 11: The Dalek Invasion of Bonn**

"Doctor!" Dorian exclaimed, turning at the wheezing groans of the materializing police box.

The TARDIS had scarcely formed, when the blue wooden doors flew open and the Doctor gestured for them to enter. His face was as white as death and his eyes dark and serious. The golden-haired thief frowned. Surely the Doctor had been able to help Rose? She couldn't really have…

Beside him, the Major clenched his hands into fists, gazing at the Time Lord with his usual cool glare, but saying nothing.

"Eroica, Major, we have to return to Earth. Right now."

Klaus brushed past him, walking to the TARDIS with quick militaristic steps, but Dorian couldn't move. He felt the sea breeze propel his thick mass of golden curls over his shoulders so that they whipped out in front of him in a wild torrent. For the first time since their meeting, he felt something truly alien about the enigmatic man in the black leather jacket who had taken them from the midst of another NATO mission to the other side of the galaxy.

Sometimes, the Doctor was manic and carefree, a wide grin spreading across his face in an almost elfish way, boundless enthusiasm and confidence radiating from his entire being. It was during those moments that Eroica was able to feel a kinship with him, laugh and enjoy the wild ride the Doctor had dragged them into. But then there were these moments, when the smile faded, and an impossibly dark heaviness rested in those eyes…The Doctor seemed to be an entirely different person altogether, someone angry and cold. And then, like now, Dorian wasn't sure he wanted to put his life in the hands of that stranger.

"You can stay here if you want, thief," Klaus called over his shoulder. "But I for one have no interest in staying in a time with no cigarettes."

The Doctor looked torn. "Dorian…"

"Master," a sharp mechanical voice chirped.

Dorian let out a surprised gasp and was shaken from his foreboding feelings. "Why, I don't believe it! K-9!"

"Master," the small metal automaton slid forwards, to the TARDIS doorframe, its silver tail wagging.

The Doctor looked as surprised to see his dog as Dorian was. "K-9? But who…" he was obliged to step back as the two men entered the TARDIS and the doors fell shut with a heavy snap.

"So, we're finally going back to Earth, yes?" he heard the Major ask as he adjusted the robot's multi-coloured collar.

"We were just on Earth," Dorian reminded him.

"I do not consider the thirteenth century BC to be 'Earth!'" the Major snorted.

The Doctor was strangely quiet. Dorian looked up from the robot dog, growing more worried at the Doctor's pallid face. "Doctor, just what _is_ going on?"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well…"

The Time Lord stopped when footsteps sounded across the console room. Dorian rose to his feet and turned. "Ro—"

And froze.

The woman who stood before him was not the Rose Tyler he knew. She leaned against the console, a long dark red robe pulled loosely around her shoulders, her hair—red and frayed—falling on either side of a face that was ruined with white scars all around the eyes—eyes that were blue and piercing instead of gentle and brown.

He heard the Major draw in his breath sharply, and was quite startled to feel two hands like iron clamp down painfully on his shoulders. It must have been an automatic response, but even so, rather than releasing him, the grip tightened as this Rose slowly moved towards them.

She smiled at him—sadly? Shyly?—he couldn't read her expression. "Rose, you're…" he stared at her in horror. "Your hands…"

The hands that awkwardly clasped her cloak were red and raw, covered with scar tissue, mangled. "Ah…yes, well, I was in a bad accident," she replied softly.

"What? When?"

"It hasn't happened yet…"

"Oh."

"Are you truly Miss Tyler?" the Major asked, his deep baritone voice bordering on threatening.

She merely shrugged, her gaze leaving them and sliding off into the distance. It was K-9 who rolled forwards, red eye-band blinking in recognition. "Mistress."

"K-9?" Dorian asked.

Rose smiled. "I finished up the repairs. I figured we'd need as much help as we can get for what's coming."

"You…" the Doctor repeated in disbelief. "But you don't know how…"

He trailed off. She looked away.

"We can't let this future happen," he tried again, speaking to the group. "That's why we're going back to your time," he nodded to Dorian and Klaus, and began turning switches on the main console.

"But why? What's happening in our time?"

The Doctor paused for a moment, turning back to them. He looked to Rose uneasily, and then back to Dorian and Klaus. "It seems that in…Miss Tyler's future, the Daleks survived the Time Wars, and are now tearing their way through the rest of space and time. According to Miss Tyler, they make their way as far as twentieth-century Earth, destroying everything…" the Time Lord's gaze flickered back to Rose for another second, "…everyone. We have to stop this. And we have to find…me."

"That is you?" the Major asked, regarding the Doctor quizzically.

"No, Doctor, it can't be!" Dorian exclaimed. "You would never—"

The Doctor looked up at him from the console sharply. "We don't have time to argue about this! You don't understand the gravity of what this other me is trying to do! With the Solar Crystal and the power of his TARDIS, the Dalek fleet, and Ristead's alien technology, he's going to attempt to fold time back in on itself to erase what happened during the Time Wars. But that can't be done without erasing everything else! And I do mean _everything_! The overlap is going to wipe out Time and Space. The universe. Everything."

"But…That can't be possible…"

"Oh? Not possible? Try hanging around for a while and _see_!"

Dorian felt stung by the Doctor's remark, and uncomfortable under this Rose's gaze. He was about to turn back to K-9 when the entire console room lurched and shivered. "What is it now?" the Doctor slammed his hands against the console in frustration. "Damn it, we don't have time for this! Hang in there, old girl! We need to get to Earth. This time we really, _really _do need to get to Earth!"

With a final groan the TARDIS shivered once more and grew still. The Doctor looked up from the control panel cautiously. The Major went to his side and examined the monitors. "This is our time, Herr Doctor…" he flicked the switch to change the monitor's screen to a view of the world directly outside the TARDIS' walls.

"Major?" Dorian asked, watching the Klaus' face grow uncharacteristically pale. From where he was, crouched next to K-9, he could not see the screens.

"That…can not be right."

"Major…?"

The Doctor examined the screen. "My God…"

The thief placed his hand on the robot dog's sleek silver back. "K-9…"

"My sensors detected explosions directly outside our perimeter, Master. It would not be advisable to leave the TARDIS."

"Explosions?" Dorian repeated in shock.

"Yes, Master. A release of chemical energy in a sudden and violent manner, generating a high temperature and often—"

"I know what an explosion is, K-9. I meant, where have we landed?"

The robot dog's white satellite-ears whirred back and forth. "My sensors detect…Bonn, West Germany."

Dorian stared at Klaus. The Major's hands were clenched into white fists, trembling with rage. "What…"

The Doctor raised a hand to his forehead. "The Daleks."

The Major turned towards the TARDIS' door.

"Major!" Eroica leapt to his feet. Rose's mangled hand fell on his shoulder and the slender thief repressed a shudder.

"Don't you think you should get changed?" she asked quietly, eyeing the shredded and dirt-stained remains of what had once been an assortment of colourful robes.

Dorian looked to the Major, his uniform as crisp and pristine as ever, despite everything they had been through in ancient Greece. The officer was clearly as impatient as ever, and not without cause, the thief thought, watching with a horrified expression, the explosions that continued to flash across the TARDIS' monitors.

"I'll wait," the Major said.

Dorian reappeared a few moments later, dressed in a sleek black cat suit, the Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver fastened to his belt, and his array of golden curls fastened back with a stray bit of ribbon he'd found in the costume room. A pale scarf was thrown around his neck, knotted loosely above his chest. "Alright," he said softly, brushing some rebellious curls off his shoulders. "I'm ready."

Except that he wasn't. Except that he felt tired, suddenly, so tired and frustrated with all of this…"Is Rose going to be okay, Doctor?" he barely glanced at the strange woman who had joined them. She really wasn't Rose, in his mind. "Our Rose?"

A pained expression flickered across the Doctor's face. "I don't know."

"Oh. I see," he turned to the dog. "Come along, K-9."

The dog's head rose slightly. "Master."

Klaus had drawn his Magnum and had a horrifyingly tense expression in his green eyes. "How could they come here? How could they come _here_? Damn it!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The ground rocked wildly beneath their feet. The world outside of the TARDIS was thick with smoke; it burned Dorian's eyes and he choked painfully. The next blast sent him sprawling ungracefully to the ground, what was left of the pavement felt scorched beneath his hands.

"Look out!" Rose, the Rose that was not Rose, shouted, and he raised his blurry eyes in time to see the first of the Daleks slide up the slag heap that had formed to their right. Its glistening eye-socket was stretched towards them, and its rifle arm twitched with, Dorian imagined, a sadistic impatience.

He shut his eyes tightly as the horrible screech ripped through the air: "EXTERMINATE THE HUMANS! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

The gears were turning. He shuddered. Rose threw her thick red cloak aside and drew out an alien weapon, a sort of gun, he thought, and pointed it at the Dalek with an eerily calm grip. Klaus had his .44 Magnum aimed squarely for the creature's eye-stalk.

"EXTERMI—"

There was a deafening crack as the Magnum fired, and the eye-socket shattered. "EXTERMINATE!" the Dalek screeched, firing into the stone walls of the buildings around them. "EXTERMINATE! THE IRREGULARITIES! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

Eroica shuddered, pulling himself to his feet unsteadily with that screeching wail that was barely a voice ringing in his skull. "We have to get out of the open!" Rose shouted. "It's too dangerous."

Klaus glared at her, his grip on the weapon tightened until his knuckles were white and he began in quick strides down the ruined city streets. Dorian gasped from the smoke, trying to keep up with him. The city around them was almost unrecognizable. It was turning into the horrific alien world they had witnessed before Versailles…The Englishman shuddered delicately, the planet had been like a nightmare. He didn't want to return there ever. But this wasn't _there_, this was…

Earth. Home.

"My God…Are these things in—in _London_, too, Doctor?" he asked, grasping the Doctor's arm to steady himself as the ground trembled perilously beneath his feet. It was like walking through a nightmare. There were wails and sirens in the distance, the constant rumble of explosions and the smell of sulphur and… "Doctor?"

Rose was walking on the other side of him, her face tight and grim. "They are. They are everywhere. Destroying this planet."

He felt a chill as he looked at this strange woman. The Rose he knew would have been worried, worried for her family, and for all of the people, all of the innocent families…but this woman…

K-9 trundled at their feet, his sensors whirring constantly. The buildings beside them were crumbling slowly as they passed them, once beautiful, grand, proud structures, melting in a wash of rubble. The Major was several yards ahead of them by now, his back straight, his hands clenched. "Oh God, this has to be killing him," Dorian murmured. "Maj—"

"Get Down!" the Doctor shouted, shoving him off his feet. In that second, the entire world spun jaggedly out of focus, and he felt the hard ground fly up and slam against him as a horrible rumble—too loud to even be a sound, too invasive, it cut straight through his skull, vibrating wildly through every inch of his bones—drilled through them. A wash of air as hot as fire, he thought he felt, rather than heard since it was impossible to hear anything anymore, the bits of rubble raining back down against the earth, and for one single moment, it was as though he could feel each and every inch of the country itself tearing up around them.

Dorian felt an odd weight over top of him, but couldn't process more than that. The world was shaking, not trembling, but as though it would tear itself into a million pieces beneath his grasp. He ducked his head, unable, in this quasi-state of being to even feel the solid presence of his body any longer, but that there were pieces of the world falling all over him, and then—

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Klaus couldn't call out. He could not work a sound through his constricted throat, as the smoke and the great cloak of dust swirled over Dorian and the Doctor, obliterating them both from his sight. K-9 made a sort of alarmed noise that sounded neither robotic nor natural, but he barely heard it. There was something quite horrible in that he could not look away. This stranger who was called Rose Tyler stood beside him, her face expressionless as she watched the after effects of the explosion.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

And they had no time to grieve, even to be shocked. The enemy was there, on top of them before they had a chance to realize it. A dozen more of the metallic cylindrical bodies were rising above the land before them, hovering over the torn ground, their eye stalks stretching and twisting to find their prey.

It didn't even matter that the damn things could fly. There was nothing about the universe that could surprise him now. The Major aimed the Magnum and fired. Beside him, Rose did the same with her alien pistol, and shouted: "K-9!"

The dog shot something red from it's snout and two of the creatures dropped to the earth, their dome-heads spinning as they tried to focus with shattered eyes. However, the rest were taking aim…

"Major!" Rose shouted, grabbing his arm.

He jerked out of her grasp roughly, taking another shot at the Daleks that hovered above them with a look of pure hatred that even his subordinates, the Alphabets, had never witnessed.

K-9's ears twisted, "Master!"

He stepped back in time to avoid something fired from the Dalek's rifle. The ground smoked beneath his feet. "Major!" Rose shouted again, pointing to shelter. One of the few still-standing structures, a towering church steeple, of all things. Was this supposed to be symbolic? He ducked after her, as the Daleks continued to fire. K-9 slid along at his heels, and within seconds the three of them were crouched in the shadows of the structure that had tilted wildly on its side without falling completely, its long walls providing an escape from the now-blind Daleks.

"I think we got most of them," Rose said, peering out from their hiding place.

He stared at nothing. He may as well have been alone. The Doctor and…Dorian…had vanished, and this woman was not the same person as that girl, Miss Tyler. He felt a seething resentment towards her every time he saw those blue eyes… He looked down at the small automaton. "K-9, can you detect the location of Herr Doctor and Lord Gloria?"

The robot's satellite-ears whirred and spun. "No, Master. They are out of range of my sensors."

He frowned, fell back against the slanting wall as the Daleks began to move away, still screaming their threats of extermination even with their damaged eyes. He reached for his coat pocket before remembering that he was out of cigarettes. "God fucking damn it."

"Major?" Rose raised an eyebrow at him inquisitively. "I know you don't exactly trust me…"

When he neglected to acknowledge her in anyway, she stopped with a sort of tired sigh. For a moment. And then made some sort of clumsy movement with her damaged hands, and tried again: "What is it, exactly, that you dislike so much about me, Major? I know I'm different, but I'm still—"

"You are not Rose Tyler. You have _his _eyes," he gave her a look of pure vehemence, so much so that she was startled and stared for a moment without trying to respond.

"……I—this wasn't—"

"No. I don't want to know your story. All I need to do is stop your future from happening, and then you won't even need to exist," he concluded with a grim smile.

She stared at him blankly.

The Daleks had moved away. He made his way out of the hidden alcove and K-9 followed. He tried not to see the ruined landscape as familiar streets decimated, but as a completely foreign world. He couldn't afford to do otherwise at the moment.

"Where are you going?" she called.

"NATO Headquarters."

"And just how are we going to get there?"

He was silently annoyed for a moment, surveying the damaged landscape that surrounded him. There had to be a sign of NATO somewhere in this—this battlefield. He started walking, Rose followed somewhat suspiciously.

"Master," K-9 chirped, trundling over the bits of rubble and debris. "My sensors detect a large, enclosed, heavily armoured combat vehicle twenty yards from here."

That sounded promising. "Good boy."

He saw the tank as they carefully peered around the corner of the remaining wall of an old baroque façade. "According to my databanks, the model is a—"

"Leopard B-1," Klaus finished. "Fully automated."

"Affirmative, Master."

"It's surrounded by Daleks," Rose interjected. "We'll never get through."

The Major turned to glare at this—stranger. He could _see _the two dozen Daleks stationed around the street, their rifle-arms swivelling up at the slightest noise, their eye-stalks stretching and peering into the dark shadows of the doorways and windows. He tightened his grip on the Magnum.

There was a cold wind blowing from the West. He felt it running over the back of his neck like thin ghostly hands and pouring back into the grey sky. A piece of an obscure poem from his childhood. _And when the wind blows from the West, Departed spirits do not rest._

"What are you thinking?"

His eyes flashed at her for only a second. "That Rose Tyler should have stayed dead."

He moved out from behind the shelter of the crumbling wall and within the next few seconds, moved through the street, the Daleks turning towards him—they didn't have time to fire before his Magnum exploded their electronic eyes and sent them into a wave of furious, but sightless, frenzied shots.

Placing his hands on the steel turret of thick armour, the Major pushed himself up to the tank's hatch. The sound of laser fire and Dalek screeching in the background told him that Rose and K-9 were following closely on his heels. He pulled the hatch open and fell into the vehicle's enveloping blackness.

A moment later, Rose dropped down beside him, the robot dog held securely in her arms. The darkness was so complete that he could not see the outline of her form, but he heard her breathing heavily and the slight bang as K-9 fell to the floor.

"I've got a torch," she told him, and after a moment, a thin razor of light cut sharply through the tank.

He grabbed it from her without comment and turned the light over the controls.

"Shall I assess the damage, Master?" K-9 asked, sensors whirring busily.

Grunting noncommittally, he cast the dog a suspicious glance before continuing his examinations of the tank. It was a good Leopard. One that didn't need a full crew to function. Just like the one he'd chased Eroica in so many years earlier…when he'd first met the damn thief. …That…

No. He could not afford to think of Eroica right then. All he could see in his mind's eye was a thick cloud of dust and smoke.

What had happened to them?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It hurt. But the blackness was slowly fading and sifting into white—mist? Clouds? Dust…that unravelled slowly, parting to reveal an almost blinding spot of light breaking through the heavy grey clouds of a blank and tired sky.

Dorian blinked several times and tried to move. Everything ached, and his head was swimming. He felt a strange weight on top of him. The weight shifted, and his eyes began to focus once again on the world.

"Are you alright?"

The Doctor.

He tried to move. His limbs felt like lead, but after a minute of trying he was able to prop himself up on his elbows and shoulders—even if it did cause a sharp stinging pain to drill straight through his skull. He winced. "You…protected me, Doctor?"

The Doctor grinned faintly, while sitting back and brushing the thick film of dust and dirt from his black leather jacket. "I think we'll be alright."

"But…where's the Major? And…Rose?"

"Gone on ahead of us, I expect," the Doctor replied amicably. "Never matter, I'm sure we'll catch up with them sooner or later. Honestly, companions—they never could just stay in one place and wait for me."

Dorian smiled at this, and tried to sit up further, but he froze when something wet and sticky slid onto his cheek. Examining his face with light fingertips he felt splatterings of blood.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked, stretching and looking up at the sky, and at the desolate wasteland of what had once been a beautiful city with an air of almost un-interest.

Dorian felt chilled suddenly. "I…I'm bleeding."

"Oh? Let me take a look." The Doctor leaned over him, lifting a few strands of curls out of the way. "Just a scratch."

"Just a scratch…Is what's happening here just a scratch to you? Just a scratch on the universe?"

The Doctor stared at him for a long moment, and then the Time Lord's gaze slid from him, and was lost and, for that moment, so deeply saddened. He looked hurt by the remark.

The silence stretched out, loud and uncomfortable in the way that some silences can be, until the Doctor said quietly: "No. I like this planet. Even being exiled here. It's not a…I like this planet."

Dorian drew his knees up to his chest. Heavy and tired. That was how he felt. The dismal grey sky. The complete absence of life. The complete absence of beauty. How could so much have been destroyed so quickly? And. God. Where was Klaus?

"The Federal Ministry of Defense District."

"What?" the Doctor asked, looking startled.

"The Federal Ministry of Defense District. NATO. That's where they'll be! That's the first place Klaus will go!"

"Oh. Well then, what are we waiting here for?" the Doctor asked, leaping to his feet and extending a hand to help Dorian.

The world immediately jolted and swayed unsteadily, and Dorian nearly toppled over again. The Doctor helped him stand and placed a steadying arm around his back.

It was a lot like that time aboard the Michelangelo with the Major…

"I want to see him again," Dorian whispered under his breath.

"What's that?"

"Nothing."

The silence stretched on as they made slow progress through the decimated streets. There didn't seem to be any Daleks about, but then again, Dorian didn't exactly want to wait around for any. The silence was worse than anything. The silence and the smell of burning that seemed to have permanently imbedded itself in the air. Silence and the sticky thick feel of blood drying on his forehead. Silence and…so many terrifying thoughts.

This was a war. Like the…Time War, or whatever it was the Doctor had called it. The Daleks were _everywhere_, all over the Earth, destroying everything…They would have appeared out of nowhere. No one would know what they were or how to stop them. Every army in the world would be utterly useless…

What was happening in London? What was happening to the British Museum? The Gallery of London? Where were the Royal Family? What was happening to his team? Bonham, James, Jones, what had become of them in all this horror and chaos?

Treasures all over the world. France. The Louvre, oh God, what had happened to the beauties, helpless inside, that these horrid creatures would have no mercy for? The Arc de Triomphe? Were those wretched creatures swarming beneath it? The grand Opéra with its shining marble staircases and ceiling painted by Chagall? Versailles? Were they afire? Destroyed? Ground into dust? He couldn't bear to think of it!

He had to blink the tears back from his eyes.

The Doctor offered a sympathetic look, as though he knew, or guessed at, the thoughts that were swarming through the Earl's mind. But at the same time the eyes were distant. The thoughts were elsewhere. Elsewhere. Of course.

Dorian forced himself to regain his composure. "You're worried about Rose, aren't you Doctor? _Our _Rose, I mean."

The Time Lord smiled faintly, sadly.

Dorian felt a slight weight in his pocket. He pulled out the small diamond vial the sorceress Medea had pressed into his hand for helping Jason retrieve the Golden Fleece. "Doctor…I don't know what this is. Medea said it was magical. Do you think it might help her?"

The Doctor looked at the slender vial glinting in Dorian's hand for a minute. "Well…who knows?" he said finally, quietly. "One never _really _knows, in this universe."

"Take it, then," Dorian said with a smile. "See what happens."

The Time Lord smiled, though his eyes looked profoundly saddened. He took the vial and gently slid it into the pocket of his leather jacket. "Thank you."

"Doctor. What is that?"

"What?"

"Something's moving in the rubble over there."

The Time Lord froze on the spot and studied the debris from a safe distance, Dorian standing beside him. "Could be a Dalek. But judging by the way it seems to be moving I'd almost say it was damaged…"

Dorian swallowed. Right. Just what they didn't need. There was indeed something moving, he could hear the rubble shift, slabs of debris falling to the ground. Even a damaged Dalek was not something he particularly wanted to come across at the moment. Or ever. "How are we going to fight it, Doctor?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "We haven't got any weapons."

The Doctor's face was pale. He seemed tense, as though preparing to run for it at any moment.

Then.

"Wait."

"Wait?" the Doctor whispered.

Dorian nodded. "Wait. I hear…someone crying?"

The Doctor's brow furrowed. "That _is _odd. Daleks don't cry."

"I think we can stop whispering now."

"There's someone there," the Doctor said. "Is someone there? Come out, we won't hurt you."

There was another slight shift behind the pile of rubble, and a trembling figure began to emerge. The two men heard a muffled sob, and the Doctor began towards the figure quickly.

Eroica gasped as they came upon the small figure, hunched over and trembling in a thin crevice blown out of a crumbling wall. "Agent G!"

G was hiding in the little space beneath the wall, a deep gash sliced through his right leg. Dark blood was running in thin spidery rivers down to his feet. The petite agent was dressed in a jacket and skirt, though both were torn and stained with dirt and blood. The fluffy blond hair that normally curled cherub-like around his face was dishevelled and covered in a thick layer of grey-white dust. His eyes were wide, and thin tear streaks stained the dirty face.

"_Agent_ G? As in one of Major Eberbach's agents?" the Doctor asked with mild surprise.

The young transvestite looked at them in surprise, large green eyes blurry and red with tears. "Oh my God! L-Lord Gloria! Is that _you_? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, G, what's happened to you, my dear?" the Earl asked sympathetically, still leaning against the Doctor's shoulder to keep his balance. "You look frightful!"

The tiny agent muffled a sob. "It's those—those things—"

"Oh dear, you're bleeding—"

"Those—those monsters—came out of—nowhere—"

"That is a nasty gash you've got on your leg, there," the Doctor commented offhandedly. "Dorian, have you got anything we could use as a bandage?"

"What? Oh yes, take the scarf," he replied, pulling it from his neck with one hand.

"But—but—there are monsters—aliens—you…" G stumbled as the Doctor fastened the make-shift bandage around his leg. He stared at the Doctor for a moment, embarrassed. "Um, thanks."

The Doctor flashed him a cheery grin. "This'll stop the bleeding for now. It's nothing serious." Happy and amicable one minute, in anger and despair the next, Dorian sighed inwardly, wondering if he would ever be able to understand the Time Lord.

G, meanwhile, was still wiping the stray tears from his eyes. "But—but what about the…You don't care about the monsters, do you?"

"We're a bit used to monsters," Dorian told him quietly. "I'm afraid."

"Oh. Oh Lord Gloria, you don't know how glad I am you're here, only…is the Major with you?" the agent asked, looking hopeful and terrified at the same time. "He disappeared—well, you both did, I guess, after that last mission, and—and then these things came out of nowhere and no one knew what to do, and they sent out NATO, but it wasn't enough—those things were screaming—and—and everyone was dying—and—and none of us knew what to do, and—"

"Hush dear," the Earl murmured, putting his hand on the agent's trembling shoulder comfortingly.

"Yes," the Doctor agreed seriously. "You're speaking in run-on sentences and that's never good."

"It's going to be alright now," Dorian continued. "The Major is on his way to NATO Headquarters as we speak, and we're trying to get there, too."

"You…" he looked at the Doctor for a minute. "You're the one the Chief sent the Major to investigate! The spy—"

"What? Oh, that's not important anymore," Eroica said flippantly, tossing his curls back over his shoulder as the black ribbon in his hair came undone.

"Wha—how can it be 'not important anymore,' he's a spy!" the small agent squeaked. "The Major will kill me! Fraternizing with the enemy! Oh my God! I wonder if they have monsters in Alaska…"

"Don't worry, I'm not a spy…" the Doctor said simply. "Now, we need to find the others and think of a way to stop the Daleks."

"Daleks?"

"The monsters," Dorian replied with a slight shake of his head. "Come on, G, we haven't much time. We have to get to NATO!" He pulled the wounded agent to his feet and helped him to stand.

G looked at the Doctor suspiciously after a moment. "You're _sure _you're not a spy?"

Eroica rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, G. Tell us what's going on here. Where are the rest of the Alphabets? Where's the Chief? What's going on?"

A slightly panicked look crossed the agent's face for a moment. "The Chief's—the Chief is dead!"

Dorian's eyes widened in surprise.

"It was just after you and the Major had left. We—well, _I_ f—found him in his office, just…_dead_."

Dorian put his arm around the little agent's shoulders protectively. "I'm so sorry, dear…"

G shook his head, wiping tears out of his eyes. "No, he was a jerk and a creep…but still, to just find him _dead_ like that, out of the blue. I mean…I didn't think…Then all these things—Daleks?—started attacking us and everything turned into chaos. A was given the temporary position of commander because of the Major's absence and the—the attack. We started evacuating the city, but they were already on top of us, and—and everywhere else. We're holding out—barely—at the Ministry, or, we _were_, but…"

"So what were you doing out here all alone?"

"We were trying to fight those things using guerrilla tactics but—but nothing was working. Bullets don't _hit _them! And then they scream and it—" G shuddered, clinging to Dorian more tightly. "And there's this light, and then—then they were dead, there weren't any wounds or anything, they were just…just _dead_! All dead!"

"I know," the Doctor said quietly.

"But it'll be okay," Dorian continued. "We'll stop them. We…_can _stop them, can't we, Doctor?"

The Doctor was staring straight ahead, his face cold and his eyes hard and darkened. "They don't belong here. They shouldn't be here…Shouldn't be anywhere."

"Wait a minute…do you…hear something?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, looking up suddenly, his clouded expression vanished once again. "Sounds like an engine—a jeep?"

Dorian looked at him. "Do Daleks drive jeeps?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I mean, really…how do you suppose they'd work the pedals?"

Eroica stared at the Time Lord blankly as the jeep drove closer, and then he laughed. In spite of everything truly horrific that was going on around them, he laughed. "Doctor, if I have to live through the apocalypse, I'm glad I get to live through it with you!"

The Doctor grinned, and G shouted and waved at the approaching vehicle. It wasn't any ordinary jeep, but a military-issued armour-plaited vehicle equipped with rifles and other weaponish-looking devices Dorian couldn't name and wasn't sure he wanted to. "Anti-tank rockets," the Doctor murmured into his ear. "Now those _are _effective."

The vehicle came to a halt in front of them, and Agent Z bolted out of the passenger's side. "G! Lord Gloria, my God, what are you doing here?"

"Long story, love. Now, are you going to offer us a lift?"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It didn't take long for the jeep to make its way through the deserted streets, climbing unsteadily over the heaps of rubble and debris. "We were looking for any survivors," A shouted, over the sounds of the engine. "But Lord Gloria, we never expected to find you in Bonn! Is the Major with you?"

"You mean he hasn't reached NATO yet?" Eroica shouted in surprise. He exchanged a worried look with the Doctor.

When they came to a stop at the Federal Ministry of Defense, one of the few buildings still standing, it looked horribly stern and grim, the decimated landscape surrounding it, tanks, helicopters and armed NATO officers patrolling the perimeter. Z turned and regarded Dorian and the Doctor grimly. "The citizens have already been evacuated. Well…those we could get to in time. And non-authorized personnel aren't allowed in—"

"Not allowed?" Dorian shouted, leaping out of the jeep and rushing at Z so that the surprised agent jumped backwards in shock. "What do you mean 'not allowed?' Are you just going to let us _die _out here?"

"I—I only meant, well it's a decision made by my superiors. Please try to understand, Lord Gloria, that especially in this state of emergency, with everyone panicking, we can't just—"

The Doctor stepped between them suddenly, swiping a small piece of paper out of his jacket and flashing it across Z's face. "What do you mean 'not allowed,' Mister Z? I'm allowed everywhere."

Dorian saw the startled look cross Z's face, before realizing _the Slightly Psychic Paper, of course! _The Doctor brushed confidently passed the stunned agent and Dorian followed, smiling cheerily at the poor befuddled agents.

But he hadn't taken two steps inside the building when alarms began wailing so loudly he jumped.

"What is that?" the Doctor asked.

Z's face was grim. "Those—things—"

"Daleks," the Doctor corrected.

"Whatever they are. They're attacking again. They seem to come in waves."

"Oh no," G pressed his face into his hands and wobbled unsteadily on his wounded leg. It was Agent Z who steadied him awkwardly. "Not again."

"Mosse is ordering more men out there—" E said, running to meet up with Z and A. "And Agnew says—"

"But we can't go out there! We don't even know how to fight them!" B cried, wringing his hands together in terror. "Bullets don't hurt them! You've all seen it!"

"We've managed to get a couple with the tanks," Z offered. "And the anti-tank rockets."

"But we can't—"

"Oh, if only the Major was here!"

"We already lost three tanks with the la—"

"Well, I don't see you with a better—"

"Orders are orders!"

The Doctor exchanged a pained look with Eroica as the agents continued arguing hysterically around them and rolled his eyes. Dorian smiled, but felt a knot of worry tighten in his chest at the same time. He didn't want to see the Major's Alphabets fight the Dalek forces!

"Alright, everyone shut up!" the Doctor shouted suddenly. The Alphabets froze instantly, staring at the stranger in stunned disbelief. "Shut up, and follow me. I know how we can fight the Daleks…"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Meanwhile, the Major was making rather uncertain progress repairing the tank. He cursed for the hundredth time in the last hour. "If only I had the right tools…"

"I'm telling you, Major, if you'd just let me help—"

"Shut up, you're breaking my concentration!" he snapped at her.

Rose sighed and sat back with K-9, resting her chin on her hand. "At least we seem fairly safe in here."

The Major snorted. "If it was so safe, what happened to the previous crew?"

She all but leaped to her feet at that. "Alright, Major, enough is enough—"

"And what exactly do you propose I do, Miss Tyler?" he asked angrily.

She tossed something at him. "Use that."

He snatched the object out of the air with one deft movement. The long cylindrical piece lay in his grip. "The Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver," he growled, flashing her an accusing glare. "The Doctor gave this to Eroica."

"And _your_ Eroica still has one, but, Major, the Eroica in my future—"

"Shut up, I do not wish to hear any more of this nonsense about 'your future,' none of that is my concern."

"Oh, but I think it is," Rose stated, nonplussed, as the Major turned back to the complex wiring with the Sonic Screwdriver in hand. "Don't you want to know—"

"No."

"You were devastated, when he died, you know. The rest of the alliance agreed that, afterwards you were always more reckless, almost like you wanted the Daleks to kill you."

"Shut up!" the Major shouted, slamming his hands against the metal.

"It's funny, seeing you both again, like this," she said quietly. "That's all."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Daleks had surrounded them by the time the tank was repaired, and they had crashed over the uneven landscape, a sound almost like a metallic roar erupting from the machine as they had fought them. Iron Klaus had finally felt in his element, in control of the situation. The tank had proved a useful weapon against the aliens, and the smouldering Dalek remains forming a trail from the inner city to NATO Headquarters could prove it.

So why did he only feel glad when he saw the familiar crown of golden curls, the large bright blue eyes turned towards him when he drove the tank into NATO Headquarters and opened the hatch?

Leaping down from the tank in one swift movement, for that single moment, he forgot where and when he was, his mind obliterated by that image of Dorian disappearing under the cloud of smoke, falling three floors into the pool from the Spartens' shots, surrounded by Daleks with Rose on that distant world that Earth was beginning, too much, to resemble…and in this one moment, he was granted seeing the Briton again, he reached out and clutched him. He must cement such a moment in reality to banish the previous nightmares. To assure himself that this horrible, dark, Rose from the future, _was not _from his future. He clutched Dorian forcefully against him, feeling the warmth, the solidity, of another human being, the thick curls tickling his nose, the tight burglary costume smooth under his hands.

It was only after a moment that he noticed how perfectly still and quiet the thief had become, and how the silence seemed much greater than the two of them. He forced himself away abruptly, to be met by the staring faces of every single one of his subordinates. The Alphabets' faces were all perfect expressions of shock: mouths hanging agape, eyes wide, looking terrified in confusion. They visibly trembled when his gaze turned into an icy glare at them, but they couldn't seem to look away. It seemed as though they weren't sure whether to run, or ignore what they had just seen, or say something, or burst into tears and beg not to be shipped off to Alaska, and so all stood there torn and wavering, maybe trying to do all of those things at once.

The Major smiled grimly. This, at least, he was could handle. "You IDIOTS! Don't just stand there—we have a city to defend! You lazy, incompetent MORONS! What do you think you're doing, standing around! Herr A, get me a report, NOW! Herr B, contact Agnew and get a—"

It felt good to be yelling orders again, and to see the panic-stricken expressions of raw-terror cross his subordinates' faces. God, how he'd missed it! "—now MOVE, or I'll have you all sent out there to distract the Dalek line of fire!"

In a wave of chaos and panic the Alphabets scattered, nearly tripping over one another in haste to complete the Major's tasks. Dorian was slightly leaning against him, giving him one of those—looks—that he had found, until only recently, so unsettling, so unfathomable. "_It's called LOVE,"_ Dorian had told him, in what seemed like years ago, framed by an alien sunset in a golden palace.

"I'm sure they really are glad to have you back, Major," the thief murmured with a smile. "And so am I."

He grimaced in a way that was almost a smile. But—"Now is not the time." He tried to push Dorian—who, must now be thought of strictly as Eroica, for the sake of him focusing on the tasks at hand—swayed ungracefully and almost tumbled right to the ground. Klaus tried to steady him in a manner that was as discreet as possible, then wondered why he cared so much, now, of all times. "What is it?" he asked gruffly.

"It's nothing," the thief smiled at him shakily. "Just some cuts and bruises."

"Ah. So I see," the German noted, brushing back the long golden curls to examine the small wound on Eroica's temple. "Nothing serious."

The thief was strangely silent and still during this. The Major fancied he trembled. How strange. He didn't know what to do in this situation any longer. Things had changed completely, and then changed back again, but now it was still different than before.

"Sir—!" Z was calling him. "Sir, the Daleks—!"

Changed on so many levels.

He finally tore his gaze away from Eroica's brilliant eyes—brilliant eyes, what a foppish thought, he banished it from his mind immediately. "Herr—" he cast a quick glanced around the chaos-ridden building to find one of his less-occupied agents. "—G! Get me a carton of cigarettes! NOW!"

"Yessir!" G practically squeaked, disappearing quickly into the sea of moving bodies that had begun to swarm around them—soldiers, medics, engineers, suits from other NATO departments he didn't know…

He turned to the Doctor. No manic grins or madcap jokes now, the Doctor was grim and serious. Eroica merely looked unsettled and tired, swaying unsteadily between them. "Can we defeat these invaders, Herr Doctor?"

The Doctor frowned. Rose—Other Rose—appeared behind him, as silently and motionlessly as a ghost, her face nearly blank, but for a flash of scrutiny in the eyes Klaus would not acknowledge, when she looked at the Doctor. "It won't be easy. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't have been able to get through. They shouldn't exist at this time, in this place. It's—all wrong."

The Major was frowning deeply, a thin line creasing his forehead as he glared in concentration. "We need to start blockading. Damn it, this is idiocy, where is Herr B? I need those maps of the Dalek forces! And the status of our allies, supplies, routes…is—"

"Sir—" Z deposited a thick stack of files into his hands. B stumbled in the distance and was nearly trampled by another regiment. A was on the phone with someone, talking hurriedly, wiping sweat from his forehead with a pocket handkerchief.

"Sir!" Agent G appeared, nervously proffering a carton of cigarettes, and something that looked mauve and furry. "I—It's a jacket," the agent described hurriedly as he stared at the—object—with confusion and repulsion. "For the Earl, he looks cold."

"You idiot! I have a million more important things for you to do than waste your time finding hideous clothes for a civilian thief—" But he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Eroica take the ugly jacket with a grateful smile. The Major resolutely continued the tirade, because he knew when he stopped he was going to have to face the fact that not he, or anyone else in NATO was going to have a suitable plan. No one in the entire world was going to know the military strategies for beating these monsters. No one, except, perhaps, the Doctor.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The explosions outside the complex continued long into the night. NATO forces were surrounding, barricading the perimeter, but nothing could shake the chill that hung over the soldiers stationed there. The glowing bulbous eyes glinting through the darkness of night. The high-pitched metallic screeches of the alien invaders. Communication had been cut off with other NATO forces, other world forces. They were deserted, stranded with the Daleks completely surrounding them. It seemed that everyone realized it was only a matter of time before the creatures closed in for the kill, and everyone was living every moment with that awful reality hanging darkly above their heads.

The Doctor had spent the last several hours going over defense strategies with the Major and several other NATO officers, but now…he stared outside at the dark sky, and listened to the distant explosions. Would he be able to save this world this time?

"You're not sleeping," a voice said from the doorway.

Rose stood, leaning against the frame. The light behind her cast a shadow over her face, obscuring the wounds, the scars, the strangely coloured eyes and hair. He stared at her silhouette like that for a moment. All he knew was that he could not allow that future to happen. No matter what it cost…he had to find some way to change it. Set it right.

"I feel like something is calling us somewhere," she said quietly.

He frowned, tilting his head forwards in silent contemplation. "I had thought that, too."

She turned her head slightly, the red cloak was once again drawn about her shoulders, as she gazed down the long corridors. "It seems our paths our diverging. I don't like to leave them here."

"We're not," he said, and shook his head.

But they did slip out of the transformed military complex that night, unseen, and alone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Major looked up from his desk at the faint knocking. He was tired, although he would never admit it. His temples were pounding almost painfully, and he had lost count of the cups of Nescafe he had drunk since the conference with the Doctor and his superiors. Even those idiots had been willing to listen to the Doctor's advice. After all, they were all panicking—no one knew how to fight these things. No one had ever seen anything like it before. The Doctor had tried to tell them about some damn British organization—what was it? UNIT?—that could offer help, but they hadn't been able to re-establish communication with anyone—

The knocking again, a bit louder this time. He massaged his forehead and glowered at the desk and whatever papers he had been looking at—he couldn't remember—eyesight was becoming strained and unfocused. "Enter!" he shouted gruffly.

The door creaked open a centimetre. It was enough to catch a glimpse of the familiar riot of golden curls. "Lord Gloria. Why aren't you resting?"

"It sounds strange when you call me that now, Klaus," Eroica said, sliding into the room and shutting the door silently behind him.

Klaus glared at him. "You didn't answer my question."

The thief shrugged vaguely. "Who can sleep at a time like this? Knowing we might be killed at any second…"

The Major snorted. "Welcome to my world."

Eroica frowned. "But it has never been like this before. Even on missions. Penned in…surrounded…our enemies aren't even human. They don't have any emotions. They don't think like us." _They don't have any mercy._

Klaus straightened the piles of paper on his desk. "A man shouldn't be afraid of dying an honourable death protecting his country."

This was greeted with a weak, shaky laugh. "Well…thieves don't have a lot of honour anyways, as I recall…"

Pushing himself away from the small desk, the Major rose to his feet, but then he realized he didn't know what to say or what to do. He merely sighed. In the next few seconds, Eroica—no, Dorian—was across the room and hugging him as though the walls were falling in and it really was the end. He took a moment to be almost amazed by the force of that embrace, before putting his hands firmly on the thief's shoulders. He had every intent of pushing him away. This was not the time, nor the place. However…

He was so close. And now. He breathed in the scent of roses and drew Dorian closer to him. "This is not the end," Dorian whispered, but his voice was shaking.

"It's not like you to be afraid, Herr Thief," the Major murmured. He was tired. He must have been, to be running his hands along the warmth of that sleek black catsuit beneath G's ugly mauve jacket. Dorian was nuzzling his neck, and he wasn't resisting. He had hands full of the springy golden curls. And then. Ran his hands along the smooth throat, drawing Dorian's head back a little so he could kiss him. His mouth was warm and sweet, and for a long moment, they stood locked like that.

Until the door opened.

Klaus looked up at the agent who had just entered with a look that could have killed something. Unfortunate Z was frozen to the ground, his face as pale as a ghost. He looked stricken with terror, as though he didn't know which would be worse: running away, or staying to explain why he had disturbed the Major.

"Ah—Uh—Well—Um—"

The Major's eyes narrowed.

"Well—that is—S—Sir—"

"AGENT Z IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO TELL ME, THEN OUT WITH IT THIS INSTANT!"

"Sir! The Daleks are approaching and the General is ordering all officers to report at once! Also, that mysterious Doctor and his companion have disappeared, Sir. No one can find them anywhere!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They had been fighting for hours. No one had caught sight of the Doctor or Rose, and in the commotion they could be anywhere. They could very likely be dead. The Major leapt from their hiding place, firing the Magnum and feeling the shock of the recoil running through his arms. He had never been in a battle before that had seemed so hopeless. No matter how many they damaged, more kept coming. The aliens cared nothing for the Daleks who were destroyed in front of them, and it was becoming painfully obvious that they would continue to press forward until the Major's team ran out of ammunition…

He fell back against the wall, feeling the muscles in his arms ache. Dorian was crouched beside him, hunched over in dismay. The explosions, the gunfire, had been going for hours now. And the only end in sight seemed indeed a dismal one. K-9 was perched beside Dorian. The robot had been useful at the beginning for transmitting data on the positions of the enclosing Daleks, but now…it hardly seemed worth it.

They had begun fighting with Agents Z, G, A, B, and E, but they had since gotten separated. Separated from his men. He didn't like it. Didn't like to think that they could be dying horribly somewhere. He was the commander. He be the first to—

Beside him, Dorian whimpered slightly, hugging K-9 around the neck. "Master," the robot noted reassuringly, its head rising and falling quietly.

How long could they go on like this?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Running through deserted streets. Even NATO had gone up in flames. The personnel scattered to be hunted down like rats… The buildings around him destroyed, the city, mutilated…

"You can't understand," he snapped suddenly, hunched against the cold greying wall of a building that was no longer recognizable. The heavy darkness of night seemed unfairly oppressing. And the Major had never felt depressed on a mission in his life. He had never had time for melodrama or other such idiotic nonsense. In fact, the less he thought about it, the better. But this was different. So horribly fundamentally different.

It was probably idiotic to be mourning a _place _in itself, as much as the people who had lived there. But it wasn't even real, to be witnessing, buildings he had grown up around, structures that were ingrained forever in his mind as immutable pieces of the universe; streets, lined with trees that he passed every day, that were dark and spindly and bare in the cold of winter, strung with webbings of small orange lights at Christmastime. Buildings that were old and tall, their Baroque facades familiar and crowded not unpleasantly, the violet twilight darkness that sometimes fell over the city just before nightfall, the hazy image of the looming Siebengebirge hills like slumbering guardians just beyond the buildings. All the things he had thought he hadn't had the time or inkling to notice, but suddenly realized he _had_.

"But I _can _understand!" Dorian's voice was strangely quiet. "How can you _say _I can't understand when the same thing is happening in North Downs and in London right now! I—"

"But you aren't _there_," Klaus said decisively. "You don't have to _see _it."

Dorian pulled his knees up to his chest, huddling forwards in the darkness. "Only in my mind…"

Klaus stared up into the darkness and the faintly shifting coils of smoke and dark clouds moving against the darker sky. Everything was as though drenched in ink, everything felt thick and cold and suffocating. "We have to get out of here." He never thought he would say that. Running away. No, that can't be right.

But Dorian was nodding weakly, one hand covering his mouth, his eyes closed. "Yes, oh God, yes…" he murmured again and again beneath his breath.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sky was flashing, deep dark bursts of indigo, mauve. A thick stream of deep violet was winding and twisting, stretching it's slivering arms over the night sky. The wind was cold, slicing through their clothes and flesh like a knife.

The Time Lord saw the Rose who was not Rose walking beside him, her strange orange hair flashing across her scarred face as the wind made it frantic. He felt his hands curl into fists and flex almost involuntarily at his sides. Drawing a deep breath of the piercing cold air, he spoke to her quietly. "This is not right."

Rose's eyes did not leave him, with their kind of unnatural intensity. "Doctor…"

The earth trembled beneath their feet. Lightning crashed and broke across the sky, shattering the dark heavens and the even darker clouds and coils of darkness and mist that poured so thickly overhead. The forked lightening exploded in a crackling burst not ten yards from where they stood. Rose jumped, pulling the red cloak tighter around her shoulders. The Doctor glared into the emptiness.

A TARDIS appeared slowly before them, flickering and shuddering as chaotically as the bolts of lightening that scorched the ground. Rose narrowed her eyes at the apparition, her long hair flashing before her gaze. The Doctor stood between her and the…

The doors were knocked open, seemingly of their own will, revealing a stark black emptiness inside. From the darkness, the Other Doctor emerged. He had lost the fanatical, mad quality of his character, and stood regarding them in the darkness and cold with a stoic, apathetic expression. His eyes were dark. He regarded them seriously. "Rose. And…You. What are you doing here? Thought you could stop me? Doesn't surprise me. Seems like something I would do." This was said without emotion, merely calm. Emptiness. Emptiness like the black interior of this TARDIS, of this night sky.

"You can't do this. You have no idea what you'll be destroying."

"Oh no? I think I do," the Doctor replied quietly.

"But why!" Rose shouted, the wind snatching her voice and making it distant, distorted, the wind using her hair to hide the scars on her face. Her eyes showing through, cutting through the darkness. Blue. Tearing. Undisguised fear.

He regarded her. "You can ask that? After all you've suffered. Rose. I'm doing this for you as much as anyone."

She looked helpless, lost.

"All you've suffered. Ever. I'm going to erase it."

"But you're going to erase _her_, too!" the Doctor shouted.

The Other Doctor's gaze flashed to him, disdainful. "Better than what she's been through. Why don't you tell him, Rose? How you're body was torn apart by the glass and cables? How the fire destroyed your skin? How you lay screaming in your own blood, the stench of your burning flesh filling your brain as the others fought to cut the pieces of you out of the shuttle's twisted remains?"

She looked away, shaking. "Shut up!"

"You, Doctor, should understand most of all. You watched our Gallifrey being destroyed. Romana, Leela—everyone! Erased in an instant. An entire civilization snuffed from the universe as though they had never existed. And for what? The Daleks STILL exist! They're everywhere! They're destroying this world, now, too! Think of all the suffering everywhere as we speak. I can end it, now. Make it so that it never existed…"

"You'll destroy everything!" the Doctor's voice was a harsh whisper. Gallifrey. Romana. Leela. He clenched his hands. Had to ignore the stinging pain behind his eyes. Nothing would bring them back now. It could only erase them from the past, as well as the present…

"If they were never born, they will never have suffered!"

"No…That's not…a good enough reason."

"I'll erase the Daleks from the crust of the universe. Destroy them all! Forever!"

"You can't do that. The Time Wars should have done that."

"But they didn't. They failed. It's up to us to set it right again. To stop all this horror from happening in the first place."

No…

He had an image in his mind.

The first time he met Rose. Reaching out, grabbing her hand tightly. "Run."

He sees inviting her to join him. She is standing in the alleyway, her boyfriend cowering behind her. She stands coolly, her hands lightly on her hips, studying him, thinking seriously. Her light blonde hair is falling onto her shoulders. She looks like an Athene.

He sees her smiling at him, light sparkling in her eyes, and she falls against him in the movement of the crowd, laughing. And her joy becomes his joy, her excitement his, and no matter how alone he is now, she is still there, beside him.

And in Versailles, her body close against him. She smelled of flowers and spring air, her eyes glowing as she laughed and smiled up at him. Her lips against his mouth, nuzzling his chin, his neck.

And then he saw her being erased from all of those settings, all of those places, scratched out, blurred away, erased. He saw them empty without her, dark, miserable. He saw her lost.

"I can't let you."

"Oh?" his Other self asked, stepping slowly away from the TARDIS doors. "I don't really think you can stop me."

The light of the Luinway Solar Crystal was blinding. It shot out of the TARDIS' console room, slicing through the darkness and filling the sky, erasing the ground in it's blinding haze.

There was one thought running through the Doctor's mind. _This is not enough._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

They were standing atop the Siebengebirge hills. It had taken so long to get there, an eternity of running through blind empty darkness, after the stolen Merc had run out of fuel. By the time they made it to the top, the sky had long since opened to a grey, grey morning, noon, day…A day so black and white it seemed as though the entire Planet was mourning. The wind was alternately cold, and the wind from the thousands of raging fires, hot.

"…'m _not_ scared," Eroica's voice said softly. They stood at the edge of a grassy cliff, looking out over the land of Germany, once so beautiful, now scarred and torn with swelling fires of red and orange, clouds of black smoke, smouldering craters, war-ravaged valleys. The wind, hot with the burning of the fires, even so many miles away, stirred their hair and shifted the light fur trim on the Earl's tight mauve jacket.

"Don't be an idiot," Major Eberbach snapped back. It was more out of habit than anything else, and the deepest bitterness was not aimed, for once, at the conniving art thief. Well, it hadn't been for a while, had it? The Space Station, Versailles, Ancient Greece.

But this…

Klaus was watching his Germany, stretched out before him like the entire world, which in a very real way it might as well have been, because everywhere else across the globe, exactly the same scene was being played out. His hands were clenched at his sides, as useless as himself, an officer for an army that no longer existed, unable to do anything but watch from a mountaintop as the world around him ended. "Of course you're scared. We all are," he added quietly, and with no small amount of spite, though, once again, not aimed for the thief.

Klaus felt the large sapphire blue eyes turn to him, and study him for a long, painful moment, as the smoke shifting through the air from the fires below stung his eyes. The low shaky breath sounded as though it ought to have been followed up with words…but wasn't.

Finally, he turned his gaze. The Major allowed himself to study Eroica for the one moment. The air whipped several long golden curls across the pale white face, and Dorian hardly bothered brushing them back, hugging his arms tightly around his chest, swaying slightly. Looking at the sky, looking at nothing.

"Stop that!" Klaus snapped, turning his eyes sharply back to the scene of destruction unfolding beneath them. "You'll throw yourself right off the damned cliff!" And a sharp fall down how many thousand feet to whatever rocks and grass or fires were below.

Dorian's gaze turned back to him again, startled, the wide blue eyes filled with something between tears and shadows, but now slowly filling with that same strange inner warmth that they had so often gazed upon the Major bearing in the past.

There were no words, but Klaus felt the surprisingly timid warm touch of fingers brushing tentatively against his hand, hovering there just as though…

He grabbed the hand tightly with his own, forcing his fingers roughly between the Earl's and holding tightly. There was so much lost already. Deutschland. NATO. The whole fucking world. Damned if he was going to let Dorian get off as easily as throwing himself off the God-damned hilltop. Klaus squeezed harder, felt the hand he was clasping tense for a moment in shock, and then tighten firmly around his own.

"I'm still here, Klaus," Dorian's voice told him softly. And somehow, those words meant the world to him. Somehow, those words meant the world.

He breathed deeply. "I know." He drew the thief close against him, buried his face in the abundance of hair. He didn't want to look at the world any longer.

**To be concluded in Episode 12: All Worlds Ending**


	12. Episode 12: All Worlds Ending

**Episode 12: All Worlds Ending**

Rose Tyler, twenty-nine year old commander of the Dalek-resistance faction of New Earth jabbed the shuttle controls and let out a scream of frustration, kicking the control board with the heel of her boot. "Damn it! Not now! Come on—work! Work, damn you!" She spun around, her newly dyed red hair flashing against her cheek where an old scar from a laser wound ran to her jaw.

"I can't get the back-up controls to work, either," Eroica told her, seated at the control station behind her. "I'm beginning to think it's hopeless, love!" His long golden curls were fastened back in a loose ponytail, and his black jacket bore the insignia of the resistance, as did her own. "Ooh look, the Major's ship is hailing us," he cooed with clear amusement.

Her lips cracked into a half-smile despite herself. "He's a colonel now, isn't he? Besides, NATO has long ceased to exist."

He grinned back at her. "Doesn't matter. He'll always be my darling Major to me."

She smiled back, and turned to the controls. Colonel Eberbach's voice filled the shuttle. "Get out of that area now," he ordered, his voice sounded gruff and almost roared at them. "Dorian, there are Dalek ships headed your way. Do you hear me? The fleet has changed its course dramatically. Get out of there NOW!"

"Aye, aye, Captain," Dorian shouted, smiling, as always, "We're just having a bit of engine trouble—"

"Idiot! This is no time for jokes!"

"So who's joking? Listen, shouldn't take us half a minute to correct…"

Rose looked back at the control panel. "It's an old shuttle, stalls from time to time, just…" she delivered another sharp kick to the controls. "…come on, come on…please…"

"We can't reach you before the fleet!" Klaus' voice shouted over the speakers. And, by God, Rose thought, Iron Klaus actually sounded frightened. "Get out of there right now!"

"Don't worry about it…" Dorian repeated, "We'll be out in a min—"

The entire shuttle seemed to let out a scream. They shook wildly; Rose grabbed the edge of the panel until it bit into her fingers. The thick black safety belts fastened around them automatically, but she still felt her neck snap as she was jerked backwards into the seat. The sensors flashed red, and an alarm was singing shrilly as the display panels crackled and jumped in front of her. It was a passenger shuttle, about as equipped for combat as a school bus, and it wasn't a new one, either.

"Damn it…" Dorian muttered. "What are the Daleks doing in this part of space, anyways?" he was still trying to get the sub-power working. "It's no good, it's not accepting my commands."

They were struck again and the entire ship lurched. There were horrific blasts all around them. Klaus' voice crackled in and out over the intercom, shouting, shouting loudly, but she couldn't make out any of the words.

Except. "—Dorian—"

"We're within range of a planet!" she shouted. "I'm going to try and land!"

They were too damaged. The Daleks were too close. "Can we make it?"

"Of course!" Dorian shouted to her, but she heard the tremor in his voice.

There was a horrific crunch and a crash, the sound tearing through everything and making her shudder. An inhuman screech tore right through her skull. She tried to twist around in the seat as the entire shuttle ripped apart around them and the control panels exploded—

Dorian was sitting back in his seat. No. She realized, he was pinned there, by a long jagged shard of twisted metal struck cruelly through his right shoulder.  
He smiled at her, even with his eyes full of tears.

"If you make it back, Rose—"

"NO!" she shouted. "NO! Dorian—"

"Tell the Major—please tell—Klaus—"

"NO, please, NO!" she screamed, as the shuttle lurched wildly, the control panel in front of her burst apart in a crackling shower of glass and metal. Fire roared and she felt heat engulf her, burn her. The stinging raw pain splashed across her face, and cut deep through her hands and flesh.

The shuttle shook and she felt herself being torn apart. Everything was screaming up around them. Tearing up around them.

And then everything cut to black.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dorian looked up at the dark sky, the wind carried with it the heat from the fires. He shuddered. Klaus stood only a few feet away, studying the destruction, his arms folded across his chest with that perpetually unapproachable demeanor of his. "So what are we going to do now, Major? Sit here and wait for the end?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Klaus scowled. "We must find the Doctor and put an end to all of this once and for all!"

"But…" Dorian sighed; he dropped to his knees and placed a hand on K-9's back tiredly. The little robot's ears twitched around, making him smile. "But where do we find him, Klaus?"

The Major's eyes darted sharply to the dog. "K-9…"

"Masters!" the dog jerked sharply out from under Dorian's hand, his ears whirring and his silver tail quivering.

Klaus turned and drew his Magnum, the Daleks were coming after them, making their way up the hillside in massive lines, their metallic shells looking grim and dark in the shadows, their rifle-arms all protruding and ready. Dorian felt a dark chill running under his skin, and could not force his legs to move to stand or to run. He felt Klaus move closer to him, and K-9 made a low whirring noise that reverberated throughout his entire metal casing and might have been a growl.

"Major…" Dorian whispered, just as he felt the air change behind them, heard a low buzzing, and didn't have to turn to see—"Klaus…they're behind us."

The Major turned slowly from the lines of the aliens that were moving up the hillside, and saw more of the Dalek forces rising through the air, lifting themselves up to the edge where Dorian and K-9 were crouched, hovering above them. "THE HUMANS WILL NOW BE EXTERMINATED."

And for one horrifying moment, they were all stranded there in that fragment of time, unable to move, unable to fight back or escape or cry out. Then the first Dalek's rifle arm snapped into position, Dorian crouched against K-9, and Klaus' arm seemed to rise of its own volition and pull the trigger. The creature's eye-stalk exploded as the Magnum's bullet tore through it, and the shots fired flew inches above Dorian's head.

"Get up!" the Major shouted, hauling Eroica to his feet and shoving him out of the way as the rest of the Dalek forces opened fire on them. K-9 trundled along at their heels, and the Major turned back to fire two more bullets at the creatures' eyes before falling behind a dense thicket of crackling branches and shrubbery.

He fell down a short ways into a wooded area, and Dorian landed next to him, the dog rolling along afterwards as the explosions of laser-fire continued along the cliff above them.

"What are we going to do now?" Dorian asked.

The Major reloaded his gun. "Find the Doctor."

"With those things chasing us!"

"We haven't got much of a choice, have we?"

"No, Master," the dog agreed.

"But where are we going to find him?"

The Major sighed for a moment, looking up at the dark sky. Dorian followed his gaze, and suddenly a burst of incredibly thick white and blue lightning slashed across the sky as though the universe had been cut through with a terrific knife. The lightning continued, crackling and streaming down from the heavens, thin veins of light shooting from it and splintering back to the Earth, all of it crackling and fluctuating but never fading, never vanishing. The Earth trembled beneath it. It was as though the sky was tearing open.

Eroica stared at it with wide eyes. "What IS that?"

Klaus grimaced darkly. "I believe we now know where to find the Doctor."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The incredible force, powered by the Luinway Solar Crystal and the TARDIS was beginning to tear right through the Earth, its force blinding and surging with raw energy.

The Doctor stumbled backwards, staring up at the light that crashed into the TARDIS, as his other self laughed hysterically. "It's all over, Doctor. There's nothing you can do now. It's all been set into motion. Time and Space are going to fold back over each other and erase. This is the end! The end of all that is and ever was and ever will be! The end of everything that goes wrong! The end of all worlds, everywhere in all of time!"

"NO!" Rose growled. "I won't let you! I won't let you kill Dorian and Klaus all over again! I won't let you HURT MY DOCTOR!" With a guttural cry, she drew her weapon and fired a mass of shots towards the Doctor.

The bursts of laser struck the outside of the TARDIS walls around him, but fell away, harmless, as the entire structure was engulfed in the blinding white power of the charged Crystal reacting with the Heart of the TARDIS.

He smiled at her. "Oh, you'll have to do better than that, Rose Tyler. But then, you were just another stupid ape, after all."

She screamed, and flung the weapon at him, it struck the air in front of him, and before their eyes incinerated into black ash that floated to the ground.

"Doctor!" he turned to see Eroica and the Major stumbling over the rocky terrain behind him, being led by K-9. Rocky terrain? When had the ground become—

"Doctor! WATCH OUT!" Rose was shouting from somewhere, and that was the last thing he heard before one of the great white splinters of energy broke out from the TARDIS' shattering walls, and tore straight through him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Doctor! NO!" Dorian shouted, running to the fallen Time Lord with K-9. The Major grabbed his shoulders as the entire world trembled beneath them. The light coming from the TARDIS was now incredible, blinding to look at.

They heard the other Doctor's hysterical laughter above even the roaring and screaming of the lightning and the earthquakes. But when they looked at their enemy, there were tears running down his face.

"Gallifrey…I did it for Gallifrey…and for…Rose…"

"NO!" Rose screamed, turning to him, throwing her red cloak away, her scarred face twisted into a hideous grimacing snarl. "NO! You monster!" she screamed, and lunged for him with her mangled hands like claws before her.

And behind him, the TARDIS erupted and exploded in a blast of white light. The Major clutched Dorian close to him. The Earl's hand tightened over his. There wasn't time for anything more.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"What are you doing, Rose?" the Doctor asked. He was just lying there. That wasn't like him at all. But he couldn't move any part of him. There was no pain. There was no…nothing.

Rose was looking down on him. Blue eyes. Scarred face. Orange hair. Tears. Tears spilling wildly.

And blood.

Blood was splattered thickly on her face, dripping from her chin, mixing with the tears. It soaked her chest, and sloshed in thick globs from her mangled fingers.  
"I want you safe," she said. And the voice encompassed everything. "MY Doctor…I want you protected…from becoming that…I want to save everyone."

"But you can't change the past…" he thought, his head pounding. "Rose, we can't change the past…You KNOW you can't change the past..."

"I don't care," she said, and her voice was everywhere, echoing off everything. "I don't care, I will, Doctor, my Doctor, I will, I can do it, I will…"

And she began to fade from him into the blinding white light, but her voice continued to reverberate and hum through his core, a harsh whisper: "I can, I, Doctor, I will, my Doctor, protect you, protect them all, I will…"

All worlds--everywhere--were ending then. Everything was being erased. And it was his fault. For being weak. For not accepting the past. For…

_"And you went mad, Doctor."_

_--"My Doctor."—_

_"I will protect you, and this world."_

He could not move. He saw her walking towards the TARDIS, through the burning like, like a ghost. And it was killing her—destroying her. She was melting away. Like the gun, the light pulled her apart into shreds, her hair touched it and was turned to ash, her legs struck it, and were torn away, her arms, her chest, her face, looking back at him one last time, weeping, smiling.

"I will—I promise I will—"

And she was gone. But her spirit was continuing to walk towards that light, that core, the Heart of the TARDIS. And it would hear her. And then what…what would it do?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach didn't know where he was. It was not a good feeling. He couldn't even be sure if he was on Earth any longer. Perhaps he wasn't even in the universe. Where was Dorian? The thief had vanished in the rush of white light. The Major tried not to be too concerned about Eroica, tried to focus all of his concentration on the blank emptiness that surrounded him. It wasn't easy. Had everything been obliterated? Was this emptiness the loneliness of Death?

Slowly, slowly, shapes and value began to deepen out of the nothingness. Slowly, until he was able to perceive the familiar stone walls of the Schloss Eberbach, the interior of a familiar hallway, faintly through the thick white mist. But the mist was receding and receding until he was left standing there, in the old corridor, alone.

He looked one way and then the other, through the dark shadows, the faint flickers of light across the stones at one end of the hall. His head felt strangely foggy. His hands reached up and grasped his head automatically. He felt dizzy. Disoriented.

"Dorian…"

"I'm here, Klaus," a hand grasped his gently.

He turned and saw Dorian standing next to him. The thief looked scared. "You're really here, aren't you?" he asked. "Not just in my head."

Dorian nodded.

Instinctively, he pulled the thief closer.

"I'm…scared, Klaus,"

"Ja…" he murmured, "Me too."

Dorian looked at him in such surprise he smiled just a little. "You…too?"

He nodded, and pulled Dorian against him, stroking his hair.

"Klaus…Is it really the end, then?" Dorian whispered. The sky outside was flashing strange colours. The walls of the castle trembled around them.

The Major was stroking his hair, and remained silent.

"Major? Did you hear that?" Dorian asked. He thought he heard the faintest whisper of a voice. There didn't seem to be anyone there, besides the two of them.

But he heard it calling again. "There it is again!"

"I hear nothing," Klaus scowled.

"Wait. There it is again."

"I don't—"

"Listen!"

And they did.

The voice came again. Louder, this time. It was Rose. "Hey…are you there? Dorian? Major?" she appeared sort of out of the shadows, faded and transparent.

Dorian gasped when he saw her. "Major! A ghost!"

Klaus' hand was on his shoulder. "Miss Tyler? What—"

"I don't know!" she looked scared, her arms tightened across her chest, and a few stray strands of long blonde hair blew across her lips. "I don't know what's happening! Where's the Doctor?"

"We don't know," Dorian said quietly. "We don't even know where we are, at the moment, you see."

"Oh, Dorian…I—I think we're inside the TARDIS."

"But we are…here," the Major said, frowning.

"I know…but…I feel the TARDIS. It's hard to explain. I can't—" she was flickering and jumping in and out of their vision.

Dorian shuddered.

"Rose…we don't understand," the Major said slowly.

"I…I know," she said it as though just coming to a realization herself. "I know…I know how to get back there!" she looked up at them and smiled. "Follow me! This is it, we have to get back to the TARDIS!" So saying, Rose turned around, and walked straight through the stone wall of the Schloss, vanishing into the night.

"Rose!" Dorian cried. "We can't—"

Both men stood staring after her for a minute. Finally, Dorian pulled away from Klaus and tentatively reached a hand out towards the stone wall. It melted away beneath his touch. Shuddering, he looked back at the Major and shrugged, before vanishing through it.

"Damn it! Eroica! Lord Gloria! Dorian!" the Major shook his head. Then followed.

When the darkness melted away, they found themselves standing within the familiar TARDIS' walls. The console room lurched and shuddered around them, and light and smoke flooded everywhere, burning the melting room.

Rose stood next to them, her appearance more solid, but still lacking in depth. Then he caught sight of her real body on the floor, having been knocked from one of the beds. The mists from the TARDIS' engines (were they engines? Dorian didn't know) floated over her, and were seeping into her skin. He stared for a moment, before returning his gaze to her. But, considering that she was a floating incorporeal ghost at the moment he decided it would be uncouth to ask if she was okay.

She didn't seem to mind, however, her attention was solely on the TARDIS and the task at hand. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and bent over the control panel. "He's using the TARDIS as a tool to channel the power of the Solar Crystal somehow. We have to stop it. This machine is supposed to be manned by six Time Lords together. So…let's see what we can--"

She stopped, and there was another Rose standing next to her, older, scarred, but she smiled at her younger self. And then Dorian felt something—something in the air beside him, and he turned and grasped the Major's hand tightly—standing beside him, another Klaus, and another—another of himself.

"Hey, we're going to try and change the past now, alright? I don't know if it'll work or not, but it's worth a try!" his other self said.

The other Major nodded towards the center of the TARDIS. "Do it," he ordered.

Dorian's Major nodded, but as he approached the console, the light became too blinding, the smoke too intense. Dorian slid on the trembling floor and felt sweat running down his back. When had it gotten so _hot_? "Rose…we can't…"

To his surprise, even Klaus stumbled down next to him, trying to shield his eyes from the overwhelming brightness. "This is killing us," the Major told the—spirits.

"But how! How do _I--_" she cried in anguish, as her hands moved through the console.

"Like this," the other Rose said, standing at the console. The ghostly figures of Dorian and Klaus moved with her, and then the light became too blinding, and Dorian fell against the Major and collapsed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

When it was all over, Dorian had no idea of how it had ended, or why. For several long minutes he couldn't remember anything at all. Then he shifted, and found he was lying in one of the beds in the TARDIS, feeling completely refreshed, and for the longest time he couldn't remember anything at all.

And when he did remember, he was only very, very confused.

"Well, I should expect so," was all the Doctor would say, when he found him working away in the console room. "Old girl's as good as she's ever been. I think I can have you and the Major back on Earth in no time."

"Oh…" Dorian said. "That's it?"

The Major was smoking diligently and watching the various numbers rise and fall on the display. Dorian rubbed his forehead and sighed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Doctor found himself standing in the TARDIS. His other self was lying crumpled on the ground, in a thick black pool of blood. Rose. Blood splattered on her hands, her chest, and her chin. His...the other his…chest was…torn open.

Blood streaked everywhere. He would have been sick, he thought, had he been capable of feeling anything. Both the Doctor's hearts had been torn out.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The light was fading from the TARDIS. "How did you know…how did you know to stop it?" he asked, feeling the TARDIS creak and shudder all around him. He thought he saw the hazy outline of four figures standing around the controls. But he wasn't sure.

The hatch on the main console snapped shut and the blazing light of the TARDIS' Heart was cut off.

The ghosts disappeared.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Lord Gloria and the Major were collapsed on the floor. But they were alive. The Doctor sighed, and then he shuddered, as feeling began to sweep through his body once again. He almost cried out, and had to grasp the main console to steady himself. He looked at the stilled center column and a sudden wave of weariness washed over him. "For what it's worth," he murmured. "Thanks for listening, old girl…"

And collapsed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"But Doctor, what are you going to do now?" Dorian asked.

The Time Lord sighed. "Well, first of all, I'll be taking the Solar Crystal back to the Meren," he seemed so much older than when they had first met. So much more…tired.

"Doctor—" he hugged the Time Lord tightly. There was something awful about saying goodbye to him, something horribly final about it. "And I'm so sorry—you couldn't save her—"

"The TARDIS," the Doctor said quietly, and he looked to the once again hidden Heart of the TARDIS, his eyes were dark and sorrowful. "She'll be there…forever now."

Dorian smiled a little, and squeezed the Doctor's hand. "To protect her Doctor."

The Doctor turned away for a moment, and then as the Major entered, he looked back at them, and offered a smile no-where near as brilliant as he had when he had first met them.

**Epilogue**

Dorian was sprawled comfortably in bed, the Golden Fleece draped over him in a pile with the rest of the multitude of quilts and blankets that Klaus sorely disapproved of but Dorian just found so wonderfully cozy! He pulled the fleece closer and yawned, he really ought to have it hung up somewhere properly, but the feeling of magic still clung to it, and it made him feel safer, somehow, especially on the nights when Klaus wasn't there.

"Master!" a familiar mechanical voice chirped. Dorian groaned and rolled over, burying his head in the thick feather pillow.

"K-9…" the Earl groaned. "I'm sleeping! You're as bad as Jamesie!"

"Master, you did request to be awoken at six-thirty AM," the robot dog replied. "And it is now ten past seven."

"That doesn't sound like something _I'd_ request…" he sighed, rolling over.

"Are you still in bed?" an equally familiar voice demanded. Dorian finally managed to pry one eye open. Klaus was standing—well, looming really—over his bed. This made the thief smile lazily.

"Ooh you're back from your latest assignment! Finally!" Dorian exclaimed. "I'm sorry I stopped hanging around to bother you after the first week—it was just so incredibly boring. It was much more fun in the old days when we had adventures, rather than all this dull reconstruction stuff!" he yawned. "….you know, you look tired, I think you should come back to bed, Major," he purred, but alas, Klaus was fully dressed, adjusting his tie, even.

Oh well, there was always a certain amount of fun to be had in _un_-dressing, which made the thief smile even more. "Yes, I think you really should definitely come back to bed, Major…"

Klaus regarded him for a moment. "If you're going to insist on referring to me by my rank, you could at least get it right, Thief."

"Lieutenant-colonel 'as too many syllables for this early in the morn—" the rest of the word was obliterated in a yawn and Dorian snuggled further under the covers. "Or—what did you call it—Oberstleutnant…?"

Klaus rolled his eyes at what was probably the worst pronunciation of attempted-German he had ever heard in his life. Dorian's fluency in second and third languages evidently did not kick in until past noon. "Come on, get up, or we'll be late."

"We don't have to go anywhere, it's Sunday!"

"It's _Monday_!"

"I don't care!"

"Don't make me get K-9 to shoot a laser at you!"

"K-9 wouldn't do that, he loves me!"

"He is nothing more than a dog-shaped machine!"

The small robot's ears were busy twisting back and forth all the while, the tail wagging. He was well used to his masters bickering, as it happened every morning.  
"Besides, you DON'T work today, you JUST got back from your mission! And _my_ hours are very irregular!"

"Come on, Dorian! I took two weeks vacation—"

"Really?" Dorian asked, cracking one eye back open and looking up at his beloved lazily. "So you COULD come to bed, now, you know."

"I do not approve of lazing around in bed all day!"

"It's _seven a.m._! Besides…" Dorian suddenly bolted straight up, grabbed Klaus by the shoulders and dragged him back to bed forcibly. "I _like _spending time with you in bed, darling! I promise, there won't be anything 'lazy' about it!"

It was amusing to watch his beloved turn several interesting shades of red; so adorably bashful Klaus was, sometimes. "If it were up to you, we would never do anything besides—besides—"

"Yes, darling?" Dorian asked, fluttering his eyelashes up at him. "Anything wrong with that?" he asked, trying to get Klaus' jacket off, amid considerably struggling.  
"Dorian—not—not in front of K-9!"

The thief pouted, but finally relented, knowing Klaus would _have _to give in to him later; it was, after all, their anniversary. "I thought he was just a 'dog shaped machine.'"

"He is a very _sensitive_ machine!" the former-Major snapped, straightening his jacket and fixing his tie. "Now, get up, shower and dress so I can take you on our date!"

"Aye, aye, captain…" Dorian muttered, already falling back asleep.

"NOW!"

K-9 might have barked in agreement if he had the proper sound clip in his databanks. As it was, he wagged his tail.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS after returning the crystal to Luinway. The Meren had wept and sang and rejoiced. They wanted him to stay, to be rewarded, but he never did. He would disappear again. Into space and time. The last Time Lord, for now and for always.

He sighed and looked at the empty control room. And then, as he flicked a few switches, he heard footsteps in the TARDIS behind him.

Almost not daring to look, he raised his head. He listened. A muffled yawn. His hearts stopped.

He turned. Slowly. The aching pain in his chest was almost paralyzing.

And she stood there. Her hair was pulled back in a messy pony tail, as though she had been sleeping with it that way and hadn't bothered to brush it yet. She was wearing her pink sweater. She was _there_. She stretched and looked at him. "Hey,"

He stared at her in amazement. "Rose—"

"What? Find more trouble for us to get involved in, did you?" she grinned, leaping over. He stared at her, stunned. "But, I've leaned my lesson, no changing the past, just doesn't work," she sighed. "I want to thank you for trying though, taking me back to meet my dad, and all…"

"Rose…"

She looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"What's the last thing you…remember?"

"What? You mean like…going to sleep? Yeah, I took a nap in the—"

"Do you mind that I gave K-9 away?"

"K-9? What's that? Some kind of dog?"

"…never mind," he murmured, turning back to the TARDIS controls. "Hey, look, there's something on the monitor. Let's check this out, what do you say?"

Grinning madly she stepped up beside him. "Of course! Oh, wait, I'm just going to change out of this," she looked at him. "Okay?"

He smiled as she darted off back down the TARDIS corridors. And then slowly he looked up at the reverberating central column and the Heart of the TARDIS.  
He thought that he could feel a presence close to him. And just for one instant, he thought he saw the outline of her standing there, that woman that Rose could have become. She seemed to be smiling.

"Stay with me," the whisper faded softly out of the TARDIS as old ghosts got to rest.

"Thank you," he whispered back.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Why G, that dress looks simply adorable on you!" Dorian said. He sat across from the agent in a café in Bonn. It was spring, and green was becoming to come into the trees along the street. The ruined buildings had been mostly repaired over the last year and a half, and the scars of what might have been the end of the world were gradually beginning to fade.

The mysterious hot white light that had erupted from the TARDIS, while not harming any people, had fried something deep within the Dalek circuitry and most of the Dalek fleet that had been assailing the Earth had been destroyed, leaving only empty shells. Shells which NATO and other organizations had used to build new weapons, better equipped to fighting the remaining Dalek armies.

UNIT, an organization Dorian had vaguely recalled the Doctor mentioning, had also come to the fore, combining their resources and not-inconsiderable knowledge of extraterrestrial life with NATO and helping to eliminate the last of the Dalek threat.

And of course, Klaus had always been right there, fighting the enemy, saving the world, with the Eroica gang more-than occasionally appearing to lend a hand. And for once not deliberately interfering. And for once not charging a fee. Well, not much, James had demanded that they be paid _something_.

Finally, all that was left was the reconstruction. And the Earth would survive. Although, as happy as he was, sometimes Dorian couldn't help but wonder what had become of the Time Lord.

"Lord Gloria!" Z exclaimed, and came over to sit with them. Even though they were under someone else's command since Klaus' latest promotion, many of the agents which had been the "Alphabets" under Major Eberbach still referred to themselves by their code letters, almost like nicknames now. "G and I just got back from a mission in Rome. Fancy meeting you here! So, how did your team take it when you told them you were moving to Germany to live with the Major?"

The Earl smiled. "Fairly well, I suppose. I think they're mostly happy I haven't given up thieving yet."

"You haven't?" Z asked in surprise. "We all thought you'd retired, I mean, since, being married to the Major and all..."

Dorian smirked and lifted his cup of tea to his lips. "Not really."

Through the windows, he noticed Klaus walking down the street, reading the newspaper, K-9 trundling along beside him, and smiled. When the former-Major, now-Colonel reached the café, he folded the paper under his arm, told K-9 something (probably to wait for him) and came in. He looked around for a minute, until he caught sight of the Earl.

"Sir!" Z and G exclaimed, but he barely seemed to notice them. Instead, he grasped Dorian's arm.

"Come with me, quickly," Klaus said in a low voice.

Once outside the café, Dorian asked him what was wrong. Klaus gestured to the robot dog. "Tell him what you told me,"

K-9's tail wagged, and his satellite-ears rotated. "TARDIS signal located, Masters."

Dorian gasped. "Klaus? Does that mean--?"

The Major pulled something out of his jacket pocket. Dorian saw it was the TARDIS key the Doctor had given them. And it was glowing.

**THE END.**


End file.
